


Merlin's Familiars

by BrokenKestral



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 9th Century, Adventure, Familiars, Family, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Trouble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenKestral/pseuds/BrokenKestral
Summary: A raven, lion, snake, and badger siblings continually get each other into trouble, and then help each other back out again. It doesn't help that they're the familiars to the most famous wizard who will ever live.





	1. Chapter One: Who’s in Charge? The Raven, the River, or the Trouble the Lion Left Behind?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’ve done minimal research on the 9th century of England (it’s an ongoing process), a bit of research on Merlin in J.K. Rowling’s wonderful world, and almost no research on badgers, snakes, lions, and ravens. (I’m getting to that, I’m getting to that! Promise!) Any doubts about my ownership yet? Yeah, me too.

_ Siblings: it’s either “yo I’ll help you hide the body” or “yours is the body I’ll be hiding,” there’s no inbetween.  
_ — _ The Internet, and it’s quite correct. Especially since beneath it was a picture of Mycroft and Sherlock. _

OOOOO

Merlin, Grand Warlock of England, High Wizard of Europe, and Prince of Enchanters, was not at home.

His four familiars were. 

(He wasn’t all those grand titles  _ yet _ , mind you. This story happens in his fifties, before Arthur was a known thane,* and definitely before Merlin was secure enough in his fame he let himself be anything less than impressive. He did make himself  _ four _ familiars, after all. One English-speaking familiar would have been a status symbol enough, but Merlin was Merlin. He decided to have  _ four _ . And he might or might not have regretted it; you’ll have to read this story and decide for yourself.)

As I was saying, Merlin’s four familiars were safely at home in Merlin’s grand, magical mansion, and to no one’s surprise, they were arguing.

Rowkelanika,** called “Row” by her siblings (except when they called her “Rowena Ravenclaw” to annoy her), had begun the argument. Merlin had left her in charge, and she wasn’t capable of letting her siblings forget it.

“It’s because  _ I’m  _ the most responsible,” Row cawed from the top of the bookshelf, her black neck-feathers ruffling and black eyes staring down the lion cub below.

“No, it’s because you’re the  _ eldest _ ,” he whined, his fluffed tail tuft twitching and tickling the snake behind him, who sneezed impatiently. He hissing at the lion. Not that the lion took any notice. He was focused on his older sister. “You’re  _ not  _ the most responsible. The last time Master went out, you were supposed to be watching his experiment to keep it from bubbling over, and you got so caught up in something stupid that you forgot! He said you almost caught the house on fire!”

Row did not appreciate Griff bringing up this memory. She thought about defending herself with perfect logic and flowing rhetoric while describing the importance of integrating small elves’ magic into wizarding households, like a few of the Scottish Muggles had done***—it would save so much work and add a nearly impenetrable magical defense —but knew her audience was  _ not intelligent  _ enough to see the far-reaching implications. Except perhaps her third sibling, the snake Nagi. He showed sense at times. 

Sense Griff the lion was entirely without. No, she would need another argument to beat him. Something to redirect the conversation towards  _ Griff’s _ faults. “Since the Master left me in charge, I am still the better choice. After all, leaving  _ you _ in charge is a monumentally bad idea, as evidenced by-”

“A what idea?” Hufflette interrupted, looking up wide-eyed from where she was winding Merlin’s silk threads around her paws to put them into proper wound-up balls for his experimental tapestries. He was trying to charm them into moving as if they were alive.

“A  _ monumentally _ bad idea. It’s a word that ties back to the Roman power when large and important events or people had a monument erected, such as-”

“But what’s a monument?”

“It’s a mound made of dirt, Huffle, be quiet,” Griff cut in, tired of the interruptions (and of the idea that he might lose this argument), and glad to take it out on the youngest by mocking her gullibility.

“Oh,” Hufflette said quietly, looking back at the silver threads wrapped around her black paws. She’d wanted to do them first because Master loved green and silver colors.**** Her siblings paid her no attention. 

“Leaving Griff in charge would be a catastrophic idea, because the first thing he would do would be to go exploring, like he has before at  _ unnamed _ times, and Master left specific instructions that  _ we weren’t to leave the house _ . And he knew I’d listen to them. So  _ I’m _ in charge.”

“Master’s pet,” Griff accused. Nagi the snake hissed again.

“We’re  _ not  _ pets. We’re familiars.”

The lion spun around, yellow paws flexing on the dark floor. “Well, she acts like one! Everything the Master says, she’s ‘Yes, Master, no Master, I’ll gladly tell everyone what to do for you, Master!” He growled, craning his head to look up the raven. “I might listen to him, but I’m not going to listen to you!” He stomped his way over to the wooden double doors and opened them with a word, slinking through without bothering to close them. Row sighed in a put-upon way, and commanded them to close. Merlin had spent a full day charming the doors and the items in cabinets and bookshelves to respond to verbal commands, so the familiars could live easily without human hands. Row wished Griff would grow up and use those words a bit more. 

“Now that interruptions are over, I shall go over the rest of the rules,” she announced grandly. “No going outside where Muggles can see us. No eating anything from the kitchen. No interfering with the charmed…” she trailed off as she realised Nagi had slithered under the door in search of his brother, and Huffle wasn’t listening. “...the charmed watering buckets, which we shouldn’t see because we’re inside. No going in Master’s experiment room. And no causing trouble,” she finished forlornly. Being in charge wasn’t much fun when no one listened to her. Or when everyone left. 

Nagi was not interested in his overbearing sister’s speech. Nor was he that interested in Griff’s temper, but if he wanted to be Merlin’s best familiar, that meant taking some care of the other three because Master cared for them. So Nagi slithered onto the rug in the long, wide hall set with chairs and tables on every side. He headed for the middle and the magically lengthened dragon-scale carpet Merlin kept for show. It was easier to move there than on the smooth stone floor (there were no dirt floors in  _ Merlin’s _ house). Griff wasn’t in the hall, and Nagi doubted the lion would have gone into any of the other crowded-with-delicate-items areas of the house, in the mood his older brother was in. So outside it was.

This was going to go so well.

Never mind. Nagi was up to the challenge. Someday the Master would see it; someday the whole world would see it. Master might even leave Nagi in charge then.

Besides, Nagi was not one for giving up easily. He headed straight towards the towering doors. (Please bear in mind anything made for humans towers over a snake; the doors were actually about a centaur’s height, which is tall but not  _ towering _ ). Nagi commanded them to open, slipping off the dragon-scale rug. He hissed again as he made his way across the smooth stones, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. This was so much work. If Griff wasn’t family and if it wouldn’t please Master…

But he was and it would. So the snake, twisting entirely sidewise to gain a few centimeters forward, finally made it to the open door and slithered through, his tongue flicking out in relief. He closed the doors and lifted the top third of himself off the ground, swaying slightly. The mansion behind him  _ looked _ like a one-room thatched hut a thrall would sleep in. Merlin was vain but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d made the mansion much bigger and wealthier on the inside than the outside. Nagi approved. Especially since it made going around the outside much easier when looking for one of his siblings. 

Because of course Griff wasn’t in sight. Nagi sighed and lowered himself. Master’s approval was something worth working for. But it was still work, because the clearing around the disguised mansion extended many human paces in the back, large enough for all the plants Merlin required. He’d reached an agreement with the nearby centaurs. He cleared the land, both parties planted what they wished, Merlin watered it, and the centaurs tended it as it had need (which meant every day in spring). It was spring. There might be centaurs out back. That meant Griff was probably not there. The centaurs tended to talk down to him, just like a certain raven did, and Griff wouldn’t take the chance of company like that. So, the forest around the hut. Not south—that way led to the Muggle village, and Griff still had the wince-worthy memory of Merlin’s disapproval the one time those Muggles had seen him. Nagi smiled to himself.  _ He _ had never been caught by the Muggles. Not that they’d notice a meter-long grass snake as quickly as a lion cub larger than a border collie, but Griff had been caught and Nagi hadn’t. That had as much to do with skill as with size; of that Nagi was sure. 

So not south. Not north, where the garden was. East or west? 

Nagi wove through the grass, going west. The river was a short run away (for a lion), and Griff had found adventure there before. Adventure was what the lion was always looking for. It caused so many problems. 

It also made the silly cub easy to look for.

But the snake stopped short at the sound of a low growl rumbling behind him. He turned, the top half of his blue-green body riding gently over the bottom half before hitting the grass again. The growl emanated from closer to the mansion. Nagi raised himself up again. There he was, absurd lion cub. Crouched like a predator at the edge of the gardens, even his tail still. He stood just under the path of the charmed buckets. Nagi undulated over, looking for what caught his brother’s attention. 

It was just the garden. The wet, muddy garden. Yuck. The buckets were currently floating in from the river and dumping their water into designated larger buckets riddled with strategically placed leaks. The larger buckets sprinkled water onto all the nearby plants in a gentle rain, a perfect watering system. Merlin had agreed to water the garden because it would rarely be any work for him. 

Griff the lion stared at the nearest bucket with rapt eyes. It was on its way to the river, and floated closer, closer, just overhead. Griff sprung up and batted at it with one paw, landing on all fours a moment later. The bucket had dodged, then continued on its way and out of reach. It was carefully charmed to avoid the attention of Muggles and physical collision with other objects. Griff growled again, frustrated.

“What are you doing?” Nagi inquired, raising himself higher. This was new.

“Trying to see if I’m faster than Master’s spell.” Griff crouched again, eyes on the next bucket, this one coming back from the river. He waited a moment more, just one more, and leaped. The bucket dodged, but Griff caught the edge of it in one claw, causing it to dump a third of its water on the grass, snake, and lion. Nagi hissed. 

“I’ll have to sunbathe now, you stupid cub!”

“Not a cub, not in years anyway,” Griff responded absently, He crouched again, eyes fixed. “I almost had it.”

Nagi prudently backed himself half a meter away, but stayed to watch. This could be interesting. Better than being bored inside. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why try to catch spelled buckets of garden water?”

“Because it would annoy Row.” Griff leaped again, the growl rumbling out once more as he missed. “Then it just became fun. Because I can't do it yet, but I  _ will _ . Beating challenges is always fun.” Nagi rolled his little black eyes and turned away, only to pause as Griff called out, “Don’t you want to try?”

“Try leaping at a bucket? Oh yes, that’s a great activity for a grass snake, you utter moron.” (It should perhaps be explained that Griff’s trip to the village had only happened the week before, and that Merlin had curtailed all the siblings’ outside activities as a result. None of the three were very happy with the lion.)

“I bet you can’t do it, I bet you can’t do it,” Griff sing-songed, before breaking off to leap for another bucket. He caught this one with his shoulder, managing to turn the entire bucket upside down. It continued on its merry way, upside-down, as he landed with a pleased look on his face. “I bet I can do it better than any of you could.”

“Row could fly down and land on one,” Nagi snapped back, but he wasn’t leaving, still eyeing the bucket. It did present a challenge. 

“Her aside. I bet I can do this better than you.”

“I can’t jump. Of course you’ll be better at catching a bucket than me.” That didn’t make Griff any better than him in general. 

Well, maybe a little. That irked the snake. Still, Nagi raised himself even higher, watching the buckets with one considering eye. 

“You’d find another way, if you really wanted to. Fraidy-snake, fraidy-snake.” 

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, you’re afraid I’ll do it better than you. Come on, Nagi. Don’t you want to have a bit of fun?”

Nagi eyed the lion speculatively. He was smarter than the lion, he knew. If he put his mind to catching a bucket, he would. It would put Griff in a better mood, having a sibling play with him, which would make Master happy when he came back. And Nagi could win. Again. 

How to win? He couldn’t jump, but then again, he thought, head turning towards the forest, that wasn’t the only way to catch a bucket. “The next bucket that comes by, the first one to catch hold of it wins,” the snake agreed before dropping. If there weren’t rules he wouldn’t win. He raced to the nearest sapling, one the buckets passed under, and slithered up it.***** He chose the lowest, strongest branch above the buckets, draped himself over it, and waited. He had the advantage. Buckets coming from the river would pass him first. 

Of course, if he missed, falling would hurt.

Eh, beating Griff was worth it. Always.

Here one came. It went by Griff first, though—an empty bucket. He’d forgotten that, curse it! But so much the better, because Griff just missed it, and Nagi wouldn’t have to get wet. The bucket bobbed nearer. Griff watched, emitting tiny growls as he followed the wooden target along. But he wasn’t trying for it again, because Griff was fair like that. 

Fairness was such a disadvantage.

Closer, closer, almost below—and drop, tail first, head last. Nagi felt the air whooshing around his long body, then felt the pain bruise him in three sections of his body as they struck the wooden sides and bottom. One coil was falling over the bucket’s edge, but he was in, and his head stayed raised and unbruised. He smiled complacently because oh, yes. He won.

“It doesn’t count as catching the bucket if you’re  _ in _ it,” the lion complained, and Nagi sighed. 

“Fine,” he bit out, gathering all his coils. He dropped his head over the side once the weight of him was balanced, and began to wind himself around and around the rough wood, looping inside his body once to keep himself from falling as the bucket bobbed on its merry way. “Satisfied?” he called proudly when he finished. Nagi began chuckling when he saw the lion currently dodging bushes and dropped tree limbs as he followed his serpentine brother. The winner had the better seat.

“You win, fine!” the lion called. “Let’s go back and play again.” Nagi turned his head to slither back through his rope-like loop, still chuckling. He wouldn’t be playing again, because he wasn’t at all fond of bruises, but he could now hold his victory over Griff’s head. And Griff was in a better mood. Double win.

“Ow! Owowow!” Nagi paused, looking back. Griff sprawled on the ground, one paw caught in a thornbush. Nagi rolled his eyes. Merlin constantly reminded him lions were made for a very different terrain than forested England (Merlin had rescued the cub from a trio of wizards, and Master couldn’t make the trip overseas to put him where he belonged), but the lion was always getting into trouble. Muggles catching sight of him, the big cat looking for high rocks to climb, getting scratches and cuts, the list went on and on. Now Nagi would have to go back and help him. He twisted himself around, heading for the knot, only to stiffen.

He heard moving water. 

He was riding in an empty bucket. 

He hissed, springing towards the knot. Through it, through it, come on! He wedged his head through, pulling the rest of his body behind him, through and through and through, he’d take a few bruises over getting dumped in a river. He could swim, all barred grass snakes could,****** but this river had a swift, strong current. He had no intention of testing his muscles against its strength. 

He unwound the last circle from the bucket just as he felt it falling, right into the river. Spluttering at the cold, Nagi tried to wrap himself back around the bucket, to ride it back up, but all he felt was the cold, the rushing tumbling cold and pressure. The bucket was gone.

Fine, his strength against the water it was. He would win. He began rippling his body, pushing against the water. He pushed, pushed, and pushed, but his head didn’t break into the air, nor his tail; where was up? 

There, his tail! Breaking into the air; turn the other way! But before he could, something warm and hard closed around his tail, pulling the rest of him up as well. He lifted his body towards it, his head, his neck, the first third breaking into air, pulling up next to something itchy and gold. Griff’s mane! Nagi wound himself around the lion’s head, letting Griff spit his tail out and focus on swimming with three powerful paws; the one under Griff’s left shoulder floated limp. But Griff was still getting them there. Nagi laid on the lion’s head and breathed in the feeling of the sun, the absence of water, the air. Three things he loved very much at the moment. 

Griff gained a length, then another, though they were much farther downstream than before. He reached the rocks, limping out of the water, and, once he was standing on the grass, he shook himself. Nagi went flying. For the second time that day the snake hit wood with bruising force, whimpering as he fell into the grass.

“Griff, you blithering idiot, I was on your head!”

“You got yourself dumped into the river and I rescued you! The least you could do is thank me!”

“Thanks for rescuing me from a wetting your challenge got me into? Oh, yes, thanks so much!”

“I didn’t tell you to knot yourself to a barrel headed into the river! If anyone’s the idiot, it’s not me!”

Nagi stretched himself into a straight line, wincing. He didn’t have a reply to that, not one he could think of and keep from hissing with pain in the same moment. Stupid lion. Row was right to lecture him.

Griff stalked over. “Are you all right?” he asked gruffly. Nagi glared at him. “Right, fine, we’re both to blame. Pax?” Nagi shook his head, as much to stretch his neck as to say no. He  _ hurt _ . 

Griff sighed. “Right, up you go.” He held out one paw, a discontent growl rolling out when Nagi still glared at him. “I promise not to shake you off this time. Promise. I doubt you’re up to getting home. Up you get.”

Griff could be as bossy as Row. But he was also right, and he’d feel enough guilt that he wouldn’t hold this over Nagi’s head. Nagi sighed and headed for the paw, only to pause. It had red specks on it, dots steadily growing as the lion held it out. 

Stupid,  _ stupid _ lion.

“You ripped yourself out the thornbush to come find me, didn’t you. Idiot.” Griff shrugged.

“You were going downstream too fast for me to wait.” Nagi sighed, and nosed along the paw with his head. Griff didn’t usually let a little pain bother him; if he hadn’t been using the paw to swim, there were probably thorns in it. The tiny snake head ruffled the fur, checking each tangle and each blood spot, and using his small mouth to pull out three brown thorns. Griff sighed with relief after the third, a warm puff that made Nagi dance in the air. “Thanks,” the lion said. Nagi’s tiny head nodded. “Still don’t want a ride?” the lion offered. The snake huffed but wound up the lion’s leg and curled in his mane. Together the two of them set out for home. 

“It was both our fault,” Griff said when they were about halfway. Nagi said nothing. He really excelled at that. “It was,” the lion insisted. Nagi still didn’t reply. “And I’m sorry about my bit. Really. I just needed to blow off steam after Row kept bringing up...I just wanted to do something.”

Nagi sighed. “If I agree we both played some part, however large or small, in this latest disaster, will you shut up and not tell anyone about it?” He’d realised several steps ago that he’d be dry by the time they reached home. Which meant their siblings—and Master!—wouldn’t know about what had happened if Griff kept his mouth shut. Normally the lion was far too honorable to keep quiet, but if he thought he’d made a promise, or was doing it for someone else’s benefit, he’d keep silent. No one would know. Griff could have gotten wet in the garden, to no one’s surprise, and his paw would be pretty well healed, now that the thorns were gone. 

“Sure,” Griff said agreeably. He fell back into the silence Nagi was so comfortable in for another fifteen minutes, till they reached a very familiar break in the trees. “Home ahead.”

Nagi raised himself up from the drying mane. “Something ahead sounds...like trouble,” he murmured, and Griff stopped to listen as well, yellow ears pricking up. 

They heard banging, like something hitting wood, and Nagi instinctively tightened the loops of his body in Griff’s mane, knowing that-

Yes, there it was. Griff took off running towards the banging noise. Around the house, towards the garden, only skidding to a stop when he saw Row cawing from a tree as Huffle stood on her hind legs, trying in vain to bat an upside-down barrel right-side up again. Row noticed them at once.

“Thank the four founders you’re here,” she called, fluttering down to hop impatiently from one foot to another. “We’ve got a problem.” 

OOOOO

*I’ve found a few different words for the social classes from different resources, but I’m going with thralls, who were pretty much farming slaves; ceorls, who were free and could be soldiers or farmers or even sometimes landowners; and thanes, the nobles. The ninth century was Anglo-Saxon England, if it helps, and the first king to unite England came either at 899 AD or 927 AD, depending on the resource. I can’t wait till the libraries open and I can go get a book on this. I’m pretty sure it’s the 899 date.   
**The legends of Brownies (or Brownie-like creatures) started in Rome, but migrated to Scotland, and they sound very much like house elves, down to the way they’re often dressed.   
***Pronounced Row-kel-ah-nee-kah, if you were wondering.  
****According to what I’ve read, Merlin was a Slytherin.   
*****Grass snakes can, by the way, slither up walls, trees, and stone hedges, and apparently often do this to reach rats in attics. I’m not sure I wanted to know that information.   
******Grass snakes can also swim well, which makes sense, since their diet includes frogs, but seriously. I had planned to have Griff rescue a helpless snake, and suddenly I found out the snake wouldn’t be helpless. Currents and maybe rapids it is, then. 


	2. A Human Huffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: While I know a bit about being human, I don’t know anything at all about being a badger. Or a snake. Or a raven. Or a lion. Or even a wizard. So let’s just agree this is all made-up and I’m not making any money from this, shall we? 

Griff shifted his weight from his back paws to his front, wincing as his left paw reminded him of the recent thorns. “What’s wrong?”

Row hopped towards them. “Somehow Merlin’s charm went wrong and a bucket turned upside down. I can’t figure out why! And it’s not bringing back water, so there’s a stationary bucket that isn’t filling, and we’ve got to find a way to fix it, and to fill the bucket. I attempted turning it myself, but I’m not strong enough, and after that we couldn’t find—where  _ were _ you two?”

Both siblings sighed. “I’ll turn it, I’ll turn it,” Griff grumbled, stepping forward. “Here, Huffle, step back a minute. And Nagi, if you don’t want to go flying again, get off.” Nagi slithered down without comment, though he kept one eye on the lion, ready to scold the stupid bloke if he tried overturning the bucket with his bad paw. Huffle gladly stepped back, grey sides heaving as she panted.

“Badgers aren’t made to jump, we’re made to dig. And sometimes climb. Please get this, Griff, I can’t.” 

Griff glared at the bucket before rearing back like he’d seen Huffle do and slapping it with his right paw. The bucket shattered. 

“ _ Griff _ !” Row yelled as she flapped her wings to land on Griff’s back, creating little drafts that ruffled his wet hair. “Now what are we supposed to do? If we don’t water these the centaurs will say Merlin’s broken his agreement! This is all your fault!”

“Of course, everything’s my fault!” Griff yelled back, voice rising to a roar. “It’s my fault we can’t leave the house. It’s my fault the bucket fell over. It’s my fault Nagi fell in the river. It’s my fault the bucket broke! Well, you didn’t help! You-”

Row nearly fell off her perch as she craned her head to find her sibling. “Nagi fell in the river?”  _ Well, thank you Griff _ , Nagi sighed.  _ So much for keeping that quiet. _ Now their oldest sister would fuss. “Is he ok?”

“He happens to be fine,” Nagi said in a bored tone. “We were talking about fixing the problem with the barrel?” He wasn’t fine; in fact he ached in every centimeter of his body, but he didn’t feel like undergoing any fussing. Or letting anyone know he’d been unable to get out of the predicament he’d gotten himself into in time to avoid a dunking.

“I’m not supposed to fix things like this! I don’t know how! I work with magic potions and herb spells, not practicalities! Or something Master already put into place! Your brute strength just rips everything to pieces-”

“Oh stop, stop!” Hufflette cried out, rubbing at her black eyes with her paws. “Just stop!” She turned and ran towards the house with a loping stride, and the other three stood looking after her, startled out of their anger.

“I went after Griff,” the snake said after a moment. He’d done his fair share that day. “One of you gets to tackle her. I don’t do crying.” 

“Right, yes, I’m the eldest, I’ll go.” Row’s feathers deflated, leaving her looking small, her head down. “I forgot she doesn’t do well when one of us gets hurt. Hearing you went in the river must have upset her. Just—see if you can find another bucket. I think I remember Merlin’s charm, and I’ll see if I can get it to work again. Please,” she cawed as an afterthought. 

“If you can’t I’ll fetch water from the river,” Griff volunteered, and Row nodded at him.

“No need, there’s an extra bucket behind the house. Merlin put it there to catch rainwater, to see if it altered spells at all. We can use it for now.”

“And this is why we could use a resident elf,” Row muttered as she took flight. “He’d have fixed up that bucket with a snap of his fingers.”

“Dreamer,” Nagi muttered. He grew crosser by the moment, longing only for a quiet place and a good book to read, and no siblings to get him into trouble. “Come on, let’s get the bucket. Row can fix it if anyone can, she’s got a better grasp of magic than most humans.”

“Think Master knew that when he made her?” Griff asked, obediently following the snake. 

He must be hurting too, Nagi thought, if he’s actually following, not leading. It was just where he should be; just as Nagi should be leading. Out loud he said, “Well, the future is one of his areas of expertise, so I would guess he knows. I wonder if he saw anything about us?” he questioned, pausing as he was taken by the new thought. Perhaps Master saw a future where Nagi was as famous as he deserved, Merlin’s familiar, wise, clever, the saviour...Griff was talking again.

“You mean if we have futures like Row’s?” Griff paused a moment. “Probably not. We’re in a magical world, and we’re magical, but we don’t do magic. Not like she does. She’ll probably do something amazing, like make all the owls smarter, or teach rats to do tricks with their tails, or stuff like that. I doubt we’ll do anything similar.”

“Can do some of the most complex magic a magical creature ever has, but can’t fix a broken barrel,” Nagi muttered, stopping by the metal bucket set under the thatch overhang. 

“She could probably make a potion so a sapling became a new one, though,” Griff offered before bending down to pick up the bucket with his mouth.

“Because she always has to do things the hard way,” Nagi retorted, now that Griff couldn’t answer. 

He was, unfortunately, about to be proven right. 

Because Row flitted through the halls, looking for her sister. She wasn’t in the library, nor the dining hall, nor the room Merlin had half-way filled with dirt for her to dig herself a sette. Row scrambled through every tunnel the badger had made. 

“Think, Row, think,” the raven muttered. “Not the dining hall for comfort, nor here, so she doesn’t want to be found and comforted. Not the library where we all gather, and not the gardens, because she came inside. Where would she go if she didn’t want to be found?” Row cocked her head to one side, her eyes glittering. “Where we’d never think to look for her—Master’s experiment room!” She flew out of Huffle’s chamber with its yellow door, down the hall, past the green, red, and blue doors, and to the silver metal door at the end. Merlin had moved his experiment room close to their rooms when he realised that’s where he spent the most time on the occasions he was at home. Though Griff and Huffle sometimes complained about the smell, the other two thought the smells of dead things or sharp herbs quite pleasant once he’d moved.*

And there, inside it, she heard the muffled sniffs and wails of the badger cub. She circled the room, above the four long tables in the middle and the desk on the side, flapping often, but she still couldn’t see Huffle. There were too many small items of furniture and not enough light. “Hufflette!” she cawed, as softly as her raven throat would let her. “Huffle!” The noises stopped. Nothing moved.

Think like a badger, like a badger cub no bigger than Master’s head with considerably less brains...Row peered around the room. Ah, there, the small, low table by the wall. Master used it for the remnants of magical items, like a fourth of a unicorn’s white horn and three eyes of eels. Row glided to the floor, folding her wings as she landed right in front of the table. “Huffle? Come on out now,” she cawed softly. 

“No!”

“Please, Huffle, Nagi is quite all right, I promise.”

A sniff from inside. “But you’re sti-sti-still fighting.” 

“No, we’re not. See? I’m inside, and they’re outside, and we can't be fighting if we’re in different places, right?” Row coaxed. 

“But you will when you go outside!” Huffle cried. She poked her head out of the shadows under the table. “I ha-ha-hate it when you all fight!”

“But I won’t, Raven’s promise. See?” And Row held her right wing up as tall as she could, black feathers stretching up in the air. 

“Really?” Huffle asked, scooting forward a bit. A moment later her furry nose wrinkled. “No! You said that last time! You’re just teasing me again! Leave me alone!” Huffle shuffle-ran past the raven, nearly knocking her over, three paws scrambling on the floor clumsily as she tried using one paw to wipe her tears away. Her tears made the furniture into bright, blurry shapes, and she veered to one side to try to avoid the table she thought she saw. 

She hit another table instead, one with Merlin’s scattered collection of potions. Most of them merely rattled on the table, Merlin well used to having animals underfoot. But he had set one by the edge before he left, one particular one he had used that morning to morph into another human’s appearance if he had a strand of their hair or a toenail or something. This one rattled right off the table and onto the floor, breaking open with the sharp crack of breaking glass and spraying Huffle’s head. She gulped. She hated breaking Merlin’s things.

But she had been crying, her mouth open, and when she swallowed she swallowed a portion of the potion. The potion was not meant for animals, and it didn’t work quite the way it was intended. Huffle yelped in pain and fear as her stomach burned and roiled, as her four legs lengthened, her claws on her hind legs shrinking, her claws on the front lengthening into round furry fingers, and her long head imploded near her body and grew rounder near her eyes, still retaining the strips of white and black fur. Soon the poor badger-who-was-no-longer-a-badger was trembling in a ball on the floor, a human body covered in badger fur and with a badger’s black eyes. She took one look at her fully formed fingers and shrieked. “Row! Row! Row! Griff! Nagi!”

“Calm down, calm down!” Row cried, hopping frantically around Huffle’s much-larger head. “Calm down, I can fix this, I can, think, think! The base of the potion-”

“Stop talking!” shrieked Huffle. Their brothers, hearing the screams, ran from outside and slammed the door into the wall, staring appalled at the black and white striped person beginning to uncurl from the floor. “Griff,” sobbed Huffle, pushing herself up to all fours and scooting over to throw her arms around the lion’s neck. But she wailed again when she discovered they were actually long enough to go around his neck, and that she couldn’t nose his cheek like she normally did because of her much shorter nose. Griff winced at the sound right beside his ear, but started nuzzling her anyway, low purrs rumbling out to try to calm her. 

Nagi slithered up Griff’s other leg to whisper in his ear, trying to keep his tongue from flicking out and tickling it, “Get her outside, so we can think in here. I’ll see if I can get Row focused.” Griff nodded, and Nagi almost tumbled to the floor, but caught himself and wound down. 

Griff nudged Huffle with his nose. “Let’s get outside,” he rumbled. “Your garden will help. Promise.” Huffle still had her face buried in his wet mane, but she nodded into it, and the lion began the task of dragging her outside, her arms still clinging to his neck. He missed her being smaller. 

Once they were out and the noise faded, Nagi turned gracefully towards his eldest sister. He saw with relief she was already hopping around the splattered potion, twisting her head one way and then another to consider it, noting splash patterns, thickness, color, and smell. No need to get her focused, he could sit and watch for now. Nagi pulled back, swaying slightly back and forth. He knew she wouldn’t hear him if he said anything, not when she got this focused. (In Row’s defense, she usually only became that unaware when she discovered a new idea or theory, or when one of her siblings truly needed something.) She flew up to the table, hopping around the cauldrons and the buckets, moving towards the shelves behind the table that held ingredients. She was muttering to herself, listing off things like, “Lacewing flies, leeches, Nagi can get those, fluxweed and knotgrass, we’ve got that in the garden, Merlin probably added—where would he have gotten that bit?”**

“Can you fix it?” Nagi asked impatiently, because tangents were dangerous things with Row. 

“Of course I can fix it!” Row snapped. “I can fix any trouble the three of you get in, and I can certainly fix this!” She hopped to one side, picking up a small cauldron in her beak and flitting down the end of the table which was clear of other items. “Make yourself useful and get me a dragonscale and two toad legs.” 

Nagi hissed, but wound himself up the slender metal leg of the table, pushing himself up with his lower body rather than gripping it tightly. He’d learned metal didn’t hold him well, but luckily the table was low enough for him to reach with his head before his tail left the ground. For Huffle, he told himself quietly, he could let his oldest sister be bossy. For Huffle, and because Master would never let them leave the house, ever, if he came back and found this mess. Nagi could help make a potion if it avoided that outcome. Even if it had been a long day, with  _ all three _ of his siblings causing trouble. 

He blinked tiredly, sliding between vials and knives and bubbling potions, to reach the shelf at the back, extending himself up to the third one to pull a small drawer open with his mouth, diving in to it to get two frog legs, pulling out, pushing the drawer closed with his head, then turning and bringing the supplies down to the end where Row was still hopping around the cauldron, adding one thing, then another, and then reaching with her beak to take a spoon and stir it. He laid the frog legs next to her and turned to go back for the scale, only to pause when she let go of the spoon with a clank.

“I’m worried about Huffle,” she muttered. Nagi shook his head. Row never had learned to apologise. 

“Then fix it, Rowena,” he hissed flatly. He would help, but he was done being nice. 

The two siblings worked together in silence, a grumpy, offended silence. Nagi knew without being asked when to hold the side of the cauldron in his mouth so Row could stir rapidly, when to lift up one of the frog legs and hold it, waiting till the raven nodded and then dropping it in with a gentle splash. He and Row worked well together, but neither of them enjoyed it.

“There,” Row said at last. “It has to brew three hours, but if she drinks it she should be fixed. And I hope to Taliesin*** that Master isn’t home before then, because  _ something _ is weighing on his mind, and I don’t want this added.”

Nagi, who had been making his way towards the edge, looked back at her sharply. Anything that preoccupied Master for more than a few days was potentially alarming, and might need immediate attention. “Any idea what?” Row shook her head. “Then we deal with that later.” 

“Not like  _ we’ll _ be dealing with it; if the Master can’t, then we certainly couldn’t,” Row muttered, but she took flight, anxious to see how Huffle was doing.

Griff had calmed the transformed badger a little by showing her how her strange body could do new things. Her arms allowed her to move larger items and to pile dirt higher, and her height allowed her to trim higher branches and arrange flowering vines without climbing up the wall. Huffle stood picking off withered purple blossoms, as absorbed as Row had been, when her siblings arrived. Griff nudged her and she turned.

And fell face first into the muddy bed. She pushed herself up, sputtering and swiping at her face with her palm, forgetting she had fingers. 

“We’ve got the solution,” Row declared, landing on a bush in the bed Huffle had fallen into. She glanced at the muddy, miserable Huffle and then away. “I should have caught the potion before it fell,” she muttered. 

“But you can fix it?” Huffle entreated, black eyes fixed on the raven.

“The potion will be done in three hours, and it should transform you back.”

“Three hours?” Huffle repeated, palms coming up to her cheeks. “I’m going to be weird for three more hours?” She sniffed, snot beginning to run from her nose, her eyes tearing up. “You can’t fix it  _ now _ ?” 

“The solution takes time to brew,” Row stated, though her tone was gentler than it would have been for either of her brothers.

“I don’t want to wait three hours!” Huffle wailed, bending her head down towards the dirt and her tears splashing the wet bed.

“There’s nothing I can do about that,” Row said helplessly. “Don’t cry, Huffle. Please. I’ll fix it, I will, but I just need three hours.”

“And you can work in the garden till then,” Griff cajoled. “Picking off all the dead flowers, and making another dirt pile, and oh, all the things you want to do.”

“But I don’t like being tall,” Huffle sobbed. “I want to be a badger. I don’t know why Master stays human, this is awful. I’d rather be a unicorn than a human! They just have two legs and I keep falling and it hurts!” Nagi remembered his own bruises, but kept quiet as Huffle began to cry harder. “Master could fix it! I want Master to come home!”

Row fluttered down to her shoulder, rubbing her round head on the furred cheek, and Griff pressed himself closer, nuzzling her arm. Nagi curled himself up into a circle a bit away and rested his head on his body, watching. Huffle would cry herself out eventually, and there was nothing they could do, if Row couldn’t hurry the potion. And potions in general did not hurry. Huffle needed to learn life made you wait sometimes. 

They stayed that way for perhaps ten minutes, waiting for the not-badger-cub to cry herself out, when Griff lifted his head and pricked his ears. “Someone is coming,” he muttered, and Huffle looked up hopefully.

“Master?” she called, her voice hoarse. 

“No,” Griff growled softly. “Can’t you smell it?”

Huffle took in a deep breath, then began to cry again. “Humans can’t smell!” 

“Hush!” Row snapped. She traded a look with Nagi, who had lifted himself, hissing. “I’m going to go see who it is,” she whispered to the others, then turned to Griff. “Keep them safe; get them inside.”

“I  _ know _ ,” Griff rumbled back, but he stood and took Huffle’s arm in his mouth, gently tugging her towards the door, Nagi slithering under him for protection as they walked inside. Row launched herself into the air, glad for once without arrogance that ravens were common in England. She circled the thatched roof, the trees, the garden, looking for movement. She saw it to the south of the hut, between the mansion and the road to the village. She folded her wings and dived through the branches, alighting on a low one close to the trunk. She froze, listening. 

The crunching of sticks underfoot. Heavy thumps. Footsteps, more than one pair. And the clinking of metal. Not thralls, then. Ceorls or thanes.**** Muggles, in any case. 

“I still say I don’t like the place a bit,” grunted a rough voice. Row nearly cawed in triumph. Master’s charms were working; the closer Muggles got the house, the more they didn’t want to be there. So why were they still coming?

“And I know I heard someone crying,” retorted a second voice. A young man, voice clear and focused. “A child or a woman. We can’t turn away from that, Kai.” Ah, there it was. A purpose that could hold out against the spell. Or a strong sense of compassion. 

“I heard it too, and I say it was probably just a thrall’s child who stubbed their foot! It’s stopped now, hear?”

A pause. Row could just see a glimpse of them through the leaves, a bearded man and a younger one, both holding wooden shields. The bearded one held a battle-axe, and the younger a spear.*****

“It does seem to be quiet, and I don’t think we can find her without the cries.”

“Then let’s be off, we’re late as it is,” grumbled the bearded one, turning back. “You turn aside for every weakling, I swear to the stars…”

The spear-wielder laughed. “The monks say mercy is needful in a thane, weren’t you listening the night we left?” He fell into step with his friend, their voices fading as they headed back. Row lifted her wings and took flight. She made it back to the mansion swiftly, opening the doors and diving down through them, heading right for the library where she knew she would find the others. Griff crouched between his siblings and the door, Huffle curled up on a chair with her palms on her cheeks, and Nagi lay coiled on top of a stack of books for comfort.

“It was Muggles,” Row reported as she landed on her favorite bookshelf with a few flaps. 

Griff’s ears came up. “How’d they get so close?”

Row shrugged. “They came to help the person they heard crying.” 

“Unusual for humans,” Nagi observed, his head lifting slightly. 

“Is not,” Huffle said stubbornly. “I’ve come across the cub humans playing in the woods, while I’m looking for seeds for the garden. They help each other all the time. As much as we do!”

“But that’s helping people they know,” retorted Nagi, already letting his head back down wearily. Too tired to argue, he threw out a sentence he knew would change the subject. “Row, is the potion nearly done?” 

“No, not for another two hours!”

“Then let’s go back out to the gardens,” Griff said hastily. “Row, you can work on the bucket, and Huffle, now that you’re so tall, you can hold it for her, instead of us jumping for it. Come on, come help us.” Huffle consented, and three of the siblings went back out to the garden, leaving Nagi to his nap. 

Row fussed so busily—and purposefully—about the placement of the bucket, which must be held by the patient Huffle, that an hour passed before the badger-girl was aware of it. Griff had taken the time to bury the shattered pieces in the bed, hoping guiltily that Master wouldn’t notice the metal bucket and he wouldn’t have to confess. The last scolding he’d received from going where all his siblings could go still rang in his ears. 

The third hour Row sensibly occupied by cleaning up the spilled potion that caused all the trouble and by making both her dirty siblings bathe and dry off. By the time their fur was combed with Merlin’s charmed brushes the potion was bubbling merrily and smelling horrible. Huffle walked unsteadily into the experiment room, and quickly sat at Row’s exasperated command. Row taught her how to hold the potion in human fingers and how to lift it up to drink. Huffle held it up, gulping awkwardly with her human lips, and then curling up in pain as the transformation rippled through her stomach and skin once more, shrinking her limbs, lengthening and darkening her nose, and leaving her panting on the floor, a badger once more. Griff picked her up by the neck and carried her to the study, leaving Row to clean up the cauldron and ingredients. When the raven put the last item away and flitted to the study, she found the badger curled up on top of the lion, and all three of her siblings sleeping. With a satisfied nod she pulled her head down onto her body and settled into sleep herself. 

All four familiars were woken by the front door shutting, and all four lifted their heads to watch the study door expectantly. It was opened by a human hand, and all four animals tensed. The smell was familiar, the one they’d smelled all of their conscious life, but the face and gait and limbs were all wrong! Too old, for one thing, and beared, and white hair.

“Don’t you recognise me?” a merry voice asked, and the voice was the same, and Huffle bounded off Griff and threw herself at Merlin.

“Master, you’re home! We missed you! Why do you have white hair?” Griff paced a few steps behind her, Row flitted to her accustomed place on Merlin’s shoulder, and Nagi unwound himself and poured down the books and to the floor in welcome. Merlin lifted Huffle in one arm, letting her snuggle into his strange clothes, and with the other stroked Row’s feathers. 

“I have white hair because I have been to the Muggle village, and I did not want to be recognised. I was looking for a thane there, or the son of a thane, who might be interested in working with wizardkind. I wanted to get to know him, but the potion began wearing off, and I made for home. I must say, it’s a nice change to come back and find the four of you napping, the house clean, and no trouble to be found. What did you do while I was away?”

Huffle, who had been pawing at his long white beard, snorted with laughter as it began to melt away, leaving a strong chin under dark eyes, a small scar on his right cheek. The aging wrinkles faded as well, leaving behind the face of a man in his fifties. His hair turned a dark brown, and the clothes which were made for a stooped old man lifted a few inches off the floor as Merlin straightened into a tall, commanding presence. “I made a monument for you!” the badger informed the wizard excitedly. “I dug out the extra dirt of the garden and built it into a big pile, because Griff said monuments are for large and important people—or Row said that, I forget—and I wanted to make one for you.”

“You made me a monument...of dirt?” Merlin asked, dark eyebrows raising. He looked at the lion, who scuffed his paw, and shook his head at the raven on his shoulder. He went over to the chair, sitting down on it with Huffle in his lap. “I’m afraid they were teasing you again, Huffle. That is not what a monument is. A monument is a great statue or building made of durable materials, in praise of heroic deeds or great people.”

“So I didn’t make you a monument?” Huffle asked, curling up on herself sadly.

“No, but I am sure I will enjoy looking at it, just the same. Even it might need to be redistributed later; I can’t have a large pile of dirt in the garden. But I am very happy you made it for me, Huffle, thank you.”

Nagi, who had been watching the others with a slight gleam in his eye, spoke up. “Oh, by the way Master, one of the garden buckets is broken. Row charmed the metal one from beneath the eaves to take its place for now.”

“Must have been broken by one of the centaurs, I’ll fix another before I leave,” Merlin responded absently, still comforting Huffle. “Thank you for telling me, Nagi.”

“You’re welcome,” the snake replied, eyes still glinting. Griff looked at him rather sheepishly, nodding his head in a thank you, and Row hopped from Merlin’s shoulder to the top of the chair, where he couldn’t see her, and saluted the snake with one wing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I did find out that all four animals have good senses of smell, though the ravens’ is still up for debate in some circles. I think it ranks as probably but not consistently proved enough to be fact. 
> 
> **The list (without the additions) is taken directly from The Chamber of Secrets and isn’t mine. 
> 
> ***Quick reminder, thralls are slaves/peasants, ceorls are freemen (yeomen, if you’re familiar with Robin Hood tales), and thanes are nobles.
> 
> ****Taliesin is a historical figure in their world, a legend in this one. If you are not familiar with him, he’ll be explained later in the story, promise! Only it might be much later...
> 
> *****Swords were rarer during this time, because of material needed and the skill needed to create one; spears and axes use a lot less metal. Hence the wooden shields as well.


	3. A Trip Far Afield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t think there’s a reader of fanfiction out there who doesn’t know to whom Hogwarts belongs. But for any who might, possibly, improbably, somehow have missed it—these people and places are not mine. Nor is the 9th century of England, which, by the way, is a really cool period of history. 

The four familiars expected Merlin to be gone by the time they woke the next morning. He had not been born a morning person, but well aware of the a great advantage in getting a lot done before anyone else is awake, he had trained himself to wake up early, and it was normal for the four to get up and find their breakfasts by their favorite seats in the dining hall, and no sign of Merlin anywhere. 

This morning, however, Griff was the first one up. Row had spent the night before reading up on the solution she’d made for Huffle’s transformation, making sure there were no unpleasant side effects. (Her siblings often wished she’d do that research _before_ she fed them things, but she told them to stop getting in scrapes and give her time to do the research and she _would._ ) She slept in, and so it was Griff who ambled out of his room, shivering in the cooler hallway, and making his way down to the dining area. Merlin was sitting in the ornate wooden chair at the head table, poking at the porridge with a silver spoon. Griff blinked. 

“What are you still doing here?” he inquired disbelievingly. 

“I live here.” Merlin raised an arm and made a sweeping gestured at the entire hall. “In fact, I believe if you check, you’ll find this is my house.”

“But you’re never here! I mean—hardly ever.”

“He means, why are you here this morning and not off on some adventure? Though we’re delighted to see you, the lion merely states that it is at times easy to forget you live here,” a dry voice added as Nagi slithered in and headed straight for the bowl of insects put in the sunniest corner of the hall. 

“I’m aware.” Merlin took another bite of porridge. He and Nagi had a good time teasing each other in dry tones. Row had been horrified when it had first started, but after Merlin flat out told her that if he didn’t mind, she shouldn’t either, she’d left it alone. “I was quite pleased with the quiet household when I came home yesterday—other, of course, than teasing your sister with misinformation, which I believe I’ve mentioned _should not be done_ ,” he added sternly to the lion, and Griff squirmed, tail whisking uneasily, “so I’ve decided to take the four of you for an outing. You, especially, could do with some free space to play about in.”

“Where?” Nagi interrupted, lifting his head high above his bowl. “Where in England could a lion run around without raising a fuss? The uncharted forests of the north? A haunted village? A dragon enclosure?”

“No, no, and no, we’re not going to let him be eaten. Use the brains I know you have, Nagi, or wait and find out when the rest do.” Nagi lowered his head in a pout, but knew better than to ask again. Besides, this was another challenge. A way to show Master how clever he was. 

“What are we going to find out?” Row asked, yawning as she sleepily flitted to the table at Merlin’s right. Griff didn’t answer, too busy stretching every muscle in preparation for the adventures ahead.

“I’m taking everyone on a trip today, but I’m leaving it to you all to guess where,” Merlin said with a slight smile on his face. 

“Give us a hint, Master?”

“There’s a cliff beside a lake,” Merlin answered. 

“A lake,” Nagi pondered. He’d abandoned his food and come up to the head table, to slide smoothly back and forth beside Row. 

“Not one with a lot of fish, as there’d be Muggles,” Row started.

“A cliff, so mountains—nothing on the plains,” Nagi shot back, the two of them working in perfect tandem. 

“Mountains probably mean caves, too, but nothing with dragon hoards, he’d not let us near those monsters.”

“They’re not monsters, Row,” Merlin interrupted.

Row nodded her head, but Nagi continued without listening, “No Muggles, if Griff’s running around, none at all, so that leaves out the lochs were the monsters have been sighted, the thanes go hunting there when they’re bored, and Merlin wouldn’t let Griff get spiked on a spear-”

“No, I would not, Nagi.”

“-so not a well-known lake, then. Word of crows and owls, you’ve a better idea of lakes than I do, Row. Anything?” A carefully crafted puzzle often made him set his pride aside. 

Not so much his sister. “I’m a _raven_ , not a crow, thanks for that. No, they don’t keep a thought in their heads past—wait. Wait. Wait. Master, are we—are we going _home_?”

Merlin looked at her fondly, though there was sadness in the corners of his smile. “We’ve been gone a few decades now, and it’s still home?”

“It was my first home,” Row said softly. “I remember it so clearly; the cold stone, the warm fire, the hum of voices and rustling of papers, the perch on the top of your bed, the-”

“ _Where is it?_ ” Nagi broke in, twisting anxiously at being left out. 

“Don’t you know, Nagi?” Merlin asked, reaching out to stroke Row’s head. “I rescued Row when she had a wounded wing at the end of my sixth year at school.”

There was a frozen silence for a moment before Griff yelled “We’re going to _Hogwarts?!_ ” He ran for the door, slamming into it because he forgot to utter the opening word, yelped it hastily, and then ran down the hall screaming, “Huffle, _get up!_ We’re going to Hogwarts! We’re going to Hogwarts! Get up! Get up! I don’t care that you’re nocturnal, _get up!_ You’re coming with us to Hogwarts!”

“I can’t wait to show them the dungeons!” Row exclaimed, feathers rustling and ruffling in excitement as she hopped back and forth, Nagi slithering around her at the thought of all the wizards he might meet. “And the secret passageway we made! And the-”

“We are not going inside,” Merlin said dryly. “The students and teachers no doubt have enough excitement without an old wizard and his four familiars coming to call. Any one of you alone would cause a sensation; four talkative, long-lived animals getting their noses into trouble is more than I care to deal with. But we are going in sight of the castle, perhaps to meet centaurs, unicorns, merfolk, or other races, and in general to go exploring. The charms on the castle are so strong, stronger by far than the ones on the house, that no Muggle should come near it.” He looked up as Griff came charging back in the room, Huffle clinging to his back and blinking in the light. “Ah, now that you’re all here, I wish to make this clear. We are going on an adventure. That does not mean permission to do whatever you wish. No attacking anything, no provoking anything, no exploring without notifying me first, no showing off your superiority, no going deep in the forest, no getting hurt, and no going places your instincts tell you you shouldn’t. You do _have_ instincts; I wish you’d learn to use them. All of you come if I whistle. Stay out of sight of the castle, nor head there—even you, Row. Are we agreed?” Four animal heads nodded enthusiastically. “Good. First of all, take these pills; the smaller ones are for Nagi and Row. Swallow them. They’ll allow you to breathe under the water for the next four hours; I’m taking no chances with the four of you near a lake. Now eat your breakfast. We leave after you’re fed.”

It was not one of days Griff needed to eat, Row barely picked at her breakfast, Nagi was done, and Huffle wasn’t awake enough to eat, so less than half an hour later the four were pushing each other in the hallway as they followed Merlin. He headed to the garden, stopping at the edge to pick up a silver bucket Griff eyed uneasily. Then he stood there. Staring into the forest, eyes unblinking.

“Master? What are you doing?” Row couldn’t keep her curiosity quiet any longer, though her question was respectfully cautious. 

“Making a portal,” Merlin replied distantly. A few moments later he blinked. “It is created, and this,” he held out the bucket, “is the key to the portal. All of you must be touching it. I thought since it saw so much use yesterday, it would do quite well,” he added dryly, and the siblings carefully didn’t look at each other. Merlin reached down an open hand to Nagi, who coiled himself around it, and Merlin gently deposited him inside the bucket. Row perched on the side, Griff pushed his nose against it, and Huffle, for whom the bucket was too high, climbed on top of Griff’s head and rested her claw on the bucket, Merlin smiling at her. “All ready now?” The four nodded, and felt a small tugging hook inside them, and they were jerked forward, Huffle banging her head on the bucket as Griff jerked up into her, and Nagi shutting his eyes tightly against the whirl of wind he felt. A few seconds later they were standing on a narrow path leading to a great lake, shutting their eyes against their whirling heads. It slowed, stopped, and the four looked up to see a large lake, deep, wide, stretching to the horizon on the sides. But across it—there, across it, was a castle set on the top of a large cliff. Near the shoreline were large caves, and the castle towers rose high into the sky. 

“Hogwarts,” Merlin murmured, staring at it.

“Home,” Row echoed, as enraptured as her master. He blinked at her words.

“Not anymore,” he commented briskly, shaking himself. “Now, keep away from the castle—you all can clearly see which direction it’s in—and stick near the shoreline, where I can get to you in a few moments if I hear you call. We’ve hours before lunch. Off you go.”

Griff took off at once, running down to the shore to lap its water and run along the shore as fast and far as he could. Nagi headed for a tree, hoping for a better view of the castle, the place of so many mysteries and fame, and Row headed deeper into the forest, remembering a particularly nice patch of berries she’d found there once, exploring during Merlin’s lessons. She wondered if it was still there. 

“Huffle, are you not going exploring?” Merlin asked, bending down towards the badger clinging to his leg. She shook her head. “Then perhaps we shall go together,” he offered as he extended his hand towards hers. “There’s some fascinating herbs I was hoping to look at, and perhaps transplant. Would you mind assisting me with them?” 

The next few hours were spent pleasantly by all. Row flew between perches that let her look at her old home to perches that let her spy on her siblings and make sure they were out of trouble and having fun. Nagi had found some sunny rocks right by the lake, and had drowsily contemplated the castle and the water for hours before falling into a doze, dreaming about Merlin making a paintbrush small enough for him to hold in his mouth, so he could paint the view. Huffle and Merlin had found their plants, Merlin taking them back to his large house two at a time, Huffle busily and happily packing them into the pots he’d brought back after his first trip home. After the first four hours Merlin handed out another round of pills (Row and Nagi called theirs crumbs), and the four went back to their separate pursuits.

Griff, regrettably, was innocently getting into trouble. He’d become lonely after a mere half hour of running around, but Row didn’t like water, Nagi didn’t like company and said so, and the lion’s large paws proved a menace to the delicate plants the other two were transporting. So Griff decided to find his own playmates. 

He’d caught sight of something bobbing in the water, a sickly green face with two little horns. He’d immediately stopped and walked closer, because perhaps here was a friend. Or an enemy. At that point Griff didn’t much care; it was something interesting. Lions could swim, and he was sure it was too small to hurt him, if it came to a fight; but it was about the size of Huffle, and they might be friends. So he splashed after it, remembering Merlin’s warnings, and stopping when the swimming thing stopped, waiting to get closer until it showed that it wasn’t afraid of him. But he didn’t let it get away, either, following it deeper into the water, a large cat intent on its prey. 

Far too intent, as he didn’t notice the ripples behind him as he swam deeper. But they were there, first one, then two, then three, then five little creatures swimming behind him. When the Grindylow in front of him finally popped above water, a grin on his face, Griff felt ten small hands with spindly fingers dig into his mane and drag him underwater. 

The water filled right in front of his mouth before he had a chance to yell, then filled his eyes. But the water didn’t pass his lips, and he could breathe. He was still caught, water weighing his limbs as he frantically struggled, but the Grindylows had strands of his mane like reins, pulling him relentlessly deeper. 

But he could breathe. It was unpleasant, small amounts of oxygen separating from the water and filtering through the barrier that kept the water out. He breathed, calming. He lifted one front paw and smacked at the Grindylows, pushing two away, pushing himself sideways in the water. But they laughed and reattached, grabbing larger handfuls of hair, even while he pushed three others away, his hind feet beginning to kick as well, trying to propel himself back upwards. They yanked harder on his mane, pulling his head down, using his speed to pull him farther towards where they were headed. With muffled laughs, they pulled him into a tiny cave, swam out while he bumped his head and growled, and pushed three boulders off an overhang and down on the entrance, one on top of another, the combined weight pushing them deep in the mud. They had him well and truly trapped. 

* * *

A few minutes before, Nagi, pleasantly sleeping on the rock, woke with a grumpy shock as a wave of water rushed over him. He raised himself up, ready to scold Griff for doing that deliberately or Huffle for doing it accidentally (Row wouldn’t touch so much water if she could help it). But no one was near him. He blinked, realising the wave had come from Griff diving under the water some distance away. That was odd. Griff didn’t really like water. He scowled, watching for the moment Griff surfaced. Then Nagi could find out what was going on.

Only the lion didn’t surface. A minute went by, and another, and though Nagi well remembered Merlin giving them those small crumbs of herb and eel (he’d liked the taste), he began to be a bit worried. 

No, he was not worried. It was just unusual, that was all.

And his brother was a magnet for trouble. Okay, perhaps there was reason to be worried. He sighed, twisting his head 180 degrees in a graceful movement, searching the shore for Master, grumbling inside that here was proof Nagi truly was the responsible one, the only one to notice Griff was in trouble yet again. 

Only Merlin wasn’t there; he was back at the mansion, and the only person in sight was Huffle, patting dirt into garden pots. 

Well, Nagi would just have to solve this on his own, then. But it would be wise to leave word, in case this proved a large problem. “Huffle!” he called, raising himself up even further, letting his upper body dance in the air to get her attention. 

“Yes?” 

“Griff went under the water and he hasn’t come back up. Don’t worry, Huffle!” he called as the badger instantly scooted towards the shore. He shook his head. “Griff will be fine, because I’m going after him. Just tell Master where we are when he gets back, yeah?” He turned back towards the water and fell forward, letting gravity pull him into the water. 

Huffle clapped her hands to her cheeks, still worried, and began counting. Row once said she gave the boys five minutes before she knew they were in trouble. (Row might not have meant that literally, but she wasn’t exactly wrong.) Huffle would count to five minutes, and then she'd go help.

* * *

Nagi ducked his head under the water, testing to see if he could breathe. Of course he could, it was _Master_ who spelled that crumb, but it never hurt to double check. Once he found he could, he started swimming down, finding control a lot harder than when he rode the top of the water and let it buoy him. What was hardest was having to move his head to scan for any sign of a great yellow lion, because he couldn’t move his eyes without redirecting his motions. It was like floating in the air and slithering through mud, all at once. Griff just had to spoil a nice sunny afternoon on the rocks near a lovely lake, didn’t he? Because the lion was always a magnet for trouble, and little Huffle was useless in a crisis, and Row wasn’t paying attention. He was always the familiar who saved the day, in the end. Master would be so proud. Master would be so proud if he could find Griff! Where was he? He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble—could he?

* * *

Huffle had reached 120 seconds. Three more minutes till she went after them.

* * *

Where was that lion? It wasn’t like he should be hard to spot! Nagi swam faster, head darting in all directions as he looked for any sign, any disturbance. Wait, something moved. Several somethings. Nagi darted for the lake floor, wrapping himself around a rock and barely remembering to breathe. 

* * *

180 seconds. Both her brothers were going to be ok, weren’t they?

* * *

Grindylows. How, by the span of a dragon’s wings, did Griff manage to find Grindylows in a nice visit to a lake? Because there were six of them, and they were laughing, laughing like some wizards did, when they found a Muggle isolated and alone and they were slightly drunk. To Grindylows, Griff was probably like a Muggle; out of place and far too ignorant. _Where was he_? The six were leaving behind a very muddy spot in the lake, with grit and sand floating in the air. That probably meant...no. No it didn’t. Griff would be fine. But Nagi would go and check that spot anyway, just to be thorough. 

* * *

254 unicorn horn, 255 unicorn horn, 256 unicorn horn, 25-

“Why are you just staring at the lake?”

Huffle jumped, a squeak escaping her. “Rowena Ravenclaw! You made me lose count! Now I won’t know when I’m supposed to go rescue them!”

“Go rescue—our brothers? Huffle, _why_ do they need rescuing?”

“Nagi said Griff had gone under the water, and he was going to go help, and to tell Master where they went, but I was waiting five minutes like you said to that one time, and it was almost up! Should I go after them now?”

“How did Griff—never mind, it stands to magic’s laws Griff would find trouble even here. But you’re not going after them, I am. Just stay here and tell Master.”

Huffle clutched one wing in her paws before the raven could leave. “You can’t swim like I can,” she said quietly. “I know I’m the baby of the family, but I’m better in the water. And I have claws too, and strong hands, and I can help. You should stay and tell Master. He’ll come get us if anything is really wrong. I know he will.” Row looked at her, the raven’s head wobbling side to side as her brain fought her instincts. 

“Fine,” she snapped. “But be careful.” She followed the badger right to the water’s edge.

* * *

Griff was not enjoying his time in the underwater cave. He’d planted his hind feet on the ground and shoved, straining, at the boulders, but they’d shoved right back, the Grindylows gurgling giggles floating back, and more stones beginning to fall. He didn’t like this game at all. By the time the rocks had stopped pouring, his paws, especially the one that had gotten tangled in the thorns the day before, were aching. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

* * *

Nagi uncurled himself from the rock the instant the Grindylows were gone. He hated getting closer. He could see tiny bubbles of air escaping from tiny cracks. He knew what that meant. He set about moving the smaller pebbles with his mouth, seeking a way inside. He had to get inside. 

* * *

Huffle dived off the rocks, catching at the lake floor with her claws, pushing herself along with powerful thrusts. She didn’t really like water, but the rocks and mud suited her just fine. She saw one place where they’d been moved, though. That was strange. She headed that direction. 

* * *

Griff was still panting. He realised, with a surge of anger, that the pebbles and other rocks had blocked the flow of water to a trickle. Master’s spell drew oxygen from the water, and Griff could still use up all the oxygen in the cave. He had to get out of there, before he used up everything. He stepped back, to the very back of the small cave, and hurled himself forward.

* * *

Nagi had just deposited a rock a little larger than his head on the small pile behind him, straining at it, working to move it, when everything he’d been working on shook, more dirt exploding from the rocks and rising in the murky water. The _thump_ was loud enough it rumbled through the lake floor. 

* * *

Huffle heard the noise too, and pushed herself faster. It was probably her brothers. 

* * *

Griff floated in the water, stunned. That had really, really hurt. His head thudded. His front shoulder felt awful. He couldn’t feel anything below it, though. That was nice. The water was turning red. He knew that was really bad. Master was not going to be happy. Maybe he’d just sleep through the lecture; his brain was telling him to sleep…

* * *

Nagi was reaching for another rock, even more quickly. That noise meant his brother was inside, he was sure of it, only Griff would make a noise that loud and obnoxious, he had to be inside, and with the power behind that push, Griff could be hurt. Those boulders were huge; the Grindylows must have balanced them above the cave for an occasion like this. He had to move them, he had to get Griff out. A paw reached just beyond his head, scooping up a large rock. He flinched away. There wasn’t time for more enemies right now! But wait, it wasn’t—it was Huffle! Huffle, sweet, determined Huffle, who followed him down despite what he said, who didn’t notice his flinch, who just busily joined him, assuming he knew what he was doing. He loved his sister. He loved her talent for digging, for excavating, for moving the rocks that were holding their brother inside. He started on the other side of the murky pile. If they got the smaller ones out of the way, maybe they could move the larger ones? They would get Griff out.

* * *

On the shoreline Row was flapping nervously. Huffle was right, she couldn’t really swim, she’d be useless underwater. She hated this. She hated this so much. The castle would have been better than this, she knew the castle, she could have kept them a bit safer, and shown them everything, and it would have been _better_. They needed Master. She flew back towards the bucket, hoping she could figure out the spell. Or that he would come back. Something felt very, very wrong. 

* * *

Griff, unconscious with a head injury, didn’t notice when small openings appeared in the pile of rocks and new water began mixing with the old, but he did begin breathing more easily. 

* * *

His two siblings did not share his relief. The water floating out of the cave looked to be a different color. Nagi hoped Huffle wouldn't notice with all the dirt floating around them, but she was young, not unobservant. She noticed as soon as he did, the diffused red rising slowly from the holes, and she began shoving hard at the rocks, muscling them aside with her small shoulders. In moments the hole was large enough; Nagi darted through. He blunted his nose on a rock before letting his eyes adjust, and twisting rapidly around the rock to get into the small cave. He had to get to his brother. Where was he? Then Nagi saw him, floating, red pouring slowly from one smashed shoulder and a little from above his right eye. The lion didn’t move, other than the currents stirring his mane. 

* * *

Row flapped to the bucket just as Merlin appeared again. “Master! Huffle, Griff, and Nagi are in the water, and Nagi thinks Griff is in trouble, and Huffle went to help!” Merlin sprinted for the shore, long legs nearly tearing the skirts of his robes, only stopping by the water. 

“Where?” he asked Row sharply, and she pointed to the spot where Huffle had dived with one black wing. Merlin pulled out his wand, pointed it towards the water, and began muttering. The water curled away from his feet, edging away like a wave leaving the beach. Merlin marched forward, his wand out, his eyes fixed on the floor, and the water receded before him, closing behind. Row flapped hurriedly to his shoulder, clutching it with desperate feet. They went deeper, deeper, Merlin striding over rocks as the water around them rose to his waist. Where were the others?

* * *

Huffle dug, claws catching on bigger and bigger rocks, shoving them aside with all her strength. Some of the rocks were bigger than she was, but she was a badger. She would not stop, because Nagi wanted the rocks gone, and she could do that. Because someone was hurt inside, and they could help. And because Griff was missing, and deep down Huffle thought it was probably him inside. So Huffle wouldn’t stop. 

* * *

Inside the cave, Nagi swam up to Griff’s head, nosing along the outside of the gash, then placing his body over it as a bandage, trying to hold the blood inside. _Gently, gently, don’t hold too tight. Oh, Griff, why do you get in so much trouble?_ _There has to be a way to get you out of here, and back to Master. Can Huffle move the larger stones? Can I keep you from hurting till then?_

* * *

Huffle couldn’t. But that didn’t stop her trying. She began to dig under the boulders, pulling away smaller stones and mud, hoping she could make them fall. 

* * *

Merlin was still walking inward. The water stopped parting a raven’s height above his head, encapsulating the wizard and bird in a bubble. Merlin was slowing, raising his eyes from the muddy floor that sucked down his shoes. “Do you see them?” he asked Row quietly. She shook her head. This was not the adventure she’d wanted in her old home; if Master’s spell failed-. “A tracking spell it is, then. Hold tightly, we’re going to get wet.” Merlin braced himself and released the spell on the water. It poured over them, rushing in to fill the empty space, staggering the wizard. He shouted “Appare Vestigium!”* a moment before the water hit his mouth. Row blinked as gold magic spun through the water, lighting it up in a swirl of blue and gold. The swirl faded, lessening the light—except in one place, where the gold took form, or forms; six tiny forms, one leading, five tugging on the larger, lion-shaped form, pulling it down, pulling it that way! Bubbles flew from Merlin’s mouth, the gold faded, and the water receded around them again, leaving Merlin coughing it up.** “Grindylows,” he spat. “Well, we know what happened, and which direction they went.” He climbed that way, Row shaking out her feathers and trying not to worry. After all, Grindylows could catch Griff, but they couldn’t really hurt him, not badly. He’d be fine. And Master was almost there. There, up ahead! There was Huffle! She was...digging? Why was she digging? At stones—large stones. What was the silly badger—why?

* * *

Inside the cave Nagi left the end third of his body as a bandage and carefully moved down Griff’s head to look at his shoulder, hissing underwater when he caught a glimpse of bone. Griff never did anything by halves, the idiot. Nagi had to get him out of here. But wait, what was this? The water, near the top of the cave, was falling, pushing itself out and away. It must be Master! They were all right, and Nagi was doing what he should. But Griff was falling slowly towards the floor, his bad shoulder down. Rats and curses! Nagi hurriedly pushed one wall with his head, flopping the lion over before the water got too low. He breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, once Griff was better, he’d hold this over the lion’s head!

* * *

Huffle had been digging even deeper when the water fell away, the mud suddenly heavier on her paws. She looked up, shaking the water out of her eyes, and saw Master standing behind her. “Good work, Huffle. Scramble to the top rock now, and help me shift it.”

“Someone’s bleeding inside,” she blurted, already scrambling up one of the two lower boulders. Master was here, and he’d make everything better. She balanced on one rock, putting both her paws on the highest one, and began pushing. His hand joined hers, just above her head, and even Row flew down and began pushing, her wings flapping. The boulder edged sideways, the mud around it easing the way, even as it made the sucking sounds of something coming free. Push harder, harder, a small step forward—and the boulder went crashing, off the lower ones and into the wall of water, raining drops on the trio. 

“Next rock,” Merlin said grimly, already bending down to begin pushing the one farther away. Huffle slid off, the rough side scraping her fur, and set her back against it. But Merlin paused a moment, ducking his head to peer inside the cave. He pulled out again a moment later, lurching towards the rock and pushing it away. The instant it was moving he ducked inside the cave, calling, “Nagi, move!” Huffle shuffled to the side, Row perched on her head, and saw Griff, lying on the floor. Merlin patted Nagi’s head with his wand hand, reaching the other into his robes. “Well done,” he said as he pulled out a vial no larger than Row’s beak, filled with a clear liquid. He pulled out the stopper and held it over Griff’s shoulder, letting several drops fall before pulling the lion’s leg perpendicular to the joint. Then he moved up, holding the vial over the gash by the lion’s eye and letting one more drop fall. The gash closed, the skin unmarked; the wound on Griff’s shoulder was closing as well.

“Master?” Row asked breathlessly.

“Phoenix tears,” he responded. “I’ve taken to carrying them with me, what little I have of them.”

“Of course,” she breathed, her eyes still fixed on Griff as he began stirring. 

“Easy,” Merlin soothed, running a hand on the wet, sniffing nose. “It’s all right, Griff, you’re fine.” The lion blinked, then jumped to his feet.

“Master? Nagi? Row? Huffle? I thought—I dreamed I was underwater! But you’re all wet! I’m wet! Where are we?”

“At the bottom of a lake,” Merlin responded angrily. “Let’s just get to the surface and straighten things out there. I’m quite sure I have a lecture to deliver. ” He stood, shaking his robes out, and turned towards the shore. Row didn’t dare fly to his shoulder again, insteading choosing to ride Huffle. Huffle scrambled to keep up with Merlin’s long strides, however, and before long Griff scooped her up in one paw without comment, setting her on his back beside Nagi, while Row fluttered till she landed on his head. The lion’s memory was gradually returning, and his steps grew more and more shuffling as the water grew shallow around them. 

On the shore Merlin turned and waited, regarding all of them from his full height. Nagi and Huffle slipped off and stood in a meek line beside the lion, Row fluttering down beside them.

“I was sure,” Merlin began, his dark eyes beginning to flash, “that I’d managed to give you a trip for your own good that would not end badly. I gave you strict instructions to keep out of trouble. I told you what you had to do to keep out of trouble. I gave you boundaries. I brought you near a school, thinking that it would be safe enough. I told you not to explore without asking me first, and _I told you not to get hurt_ ! Griff, you could have bled out or used all the air, and died in a cave! You other two, you went and followed him! Followed him, where you had no business being! What if you’d been caught by the Grindylows as well? What if they’d dragged you to another cave? What if I hadn’t been able to find you? The only one who showed any sense was Row! What if I _hadn’t_ found you? I would have had to rouse the whole castle, and what would that have said about me? The great wizard Merlin, who can’t even keep track of his own familiars! I could have lost you all, I could have lost my reputation, and I’ve certainly lost my nice afternoon! This is what happens when I take you all on an outing?”

Merlin continued lecturing long past when his familiars were ready to wish they’d never seen this beach, their heads drooping to the sand, and their ears ringing when his voice got particularly loud. When he’d finally finished—for now, he warned them, just for now, and just because he wanted his lunch—he strode past them, picked up the pots Huffle had filled, and walked back towards the key to the portal without a backward look. The four trailed meekly after, mostly dry, and reached to touch a part of the metal bucket without saying anything. When they arrived back in the garden Merlin sent the younger three to their rooms, telling them they could expect to stay there for the rest of the day, and that they’d be confined to the house for the future, until he told them otherwise. Huffle, sniffling, asked if she could visit the gardens. Merlin glared at her without answering, and she scurried off to her rooms. Merlin watched them vanish into the house and sighed, his shoulders releasing the tension they’d carried. Row looked up at him from her perch on the bucket. 

“Are you all right, Master?”

“No, I’m wet, hungry, and just watched one of my familiars almost bleed out _and_ drown. I reserve the right to be upset for at least the rest of the day.” He tapped his robes with his wand, muttering, and the water, sand, and mud shook itself off, leaving his clothes as clean as if they’d just been washed and pressed. He strode inside and headed for the kitchen, pulling out a dead toad to put in Nagi’s bowl, seeds and meat for Row’s, and eggs and some fruit for Huffle, muttering as he worked. “Thank all magic and sense that they weren’t like this when Arthur visited. He’d never trust magic again. Silly lion. Absurd snake. Overly-trusting badger. Seriously, underwater? What was I thinking, making four of them? I have enough of a challenge, just getting to know Arthur. It’s not like thanes hobnob with anyone but their own kind, and I’m not going to be one of them. Arthur. Curse and befuddle him, he’s still traveling, and I try to have one nice afternoon, and instead nearly get Griff drowned and dead. I give them the ability to think and they don’t use it, I give them the ability to talk and they don’t stop, I give them very long lives and they don’t protect them. Arthur better not be anything like them.” 

Row, listening quietly and helping gather dishes and ingredients, and carry food down the halls and to her siblings, began to wonder. Merlin often muttered to himself when he was thinking, rather than observing, but not usually so much about one person. She helped Merlin prepare his own food, and then set her bowl beside him as they ate. When they finished, Row put her head to one side and looked at Merlin with one eye. Asking him was always taking a chance, because he liked being as cryptic as the prophecies themselves sometimes, but usually after dinner was a good time to ask about what he was up to, and why. Especially if she began with his current train of thought. “Are you talking about one of the thanes who came to the village recently, Master?” 

Merlin, recalled from his muttering, glanced over. “Yes, Row. One of them, a lad named Arthur. He’s the second son of a thane, or so it’s said. By everybody. Only everybody’s wrong, which isn’t at all unusual.”

“Why is he so important, Master? I mean, why does this Muggle have so much of your attention? I thought you were working on rules for wizardkind, ones that would help protect the Muggles. Why are you interested in this Muggle now?” 

Merlin sighed and laid down his spoon. “Because of who he will be someday.” Row put her head to the side, waiting. When Master looked that way—looked so far he couldn’t see Row, his house, or even his books, but only the future he knew about—that was usually when he said the things that were the most interesting. But this time Merlin shook himself and smiled, reaching out a hand to stroke her wings, gentle fingers moving with precision to put every feather back in place. “I watched him, yesterday. I said that the thanes don’t speak with others, but this one did. He saw some children playing with sticks as those silly swords, and stayed and taught them a bit. A thane, with the children of ceorls and thralls. He is, I think, the best reason to have these laws between wizards and Muggles. A good man, not wizard or thane or Muggle. I shall enjoy seeing him work his way to his future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Taken from The Crimes of Grindelwald. 
> 
> **Yes, Merlin did give all four familiars the ability to breathe underwater and didn’t think he’d need it himself. His familiars have the gift of proving him wrong, much to his disgust.


	4. A Quiet Day of Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I may be a gardener, but magical gardens are beyond me. I’m not even sure I’m qualified to write about them, and I know I’m not ready to own them. 

Merlin let the three out of their rooms the next morning before he left, with strict instructions to stay in the garden or the house. Row was in charge again, but her head was busy enough with Merlin’s hints that she didn’t crow about her authority this time, shutting herself up in the library and telling the others she wasn’t to be bothered, she was looking for something. The three looked at each other, heaved sighs of relief, and left. It was one of Griff’s eating days.* Nagi, content that his most troublesome sibling would be occupied for quite a while (no more scares in underwater caves) and there would be no chances for the snake to show himself off, curled himself up on his favorite rock pile in the garden and contentedly watched Huffle puttering about, digging out weeds and nosing out insects with quiet squeals. 

His younger sister both annoyed and gentled him. She had what Nagi craved. She truly wasn’t troublesome; Master rarely scolded her. In fact, he bent to her word like a fly’s wing in Nagi’s mouth when she asked for anything. But she was just so...so…

Not ambitious. All she did was putter about in the garden, happy in the mud. He liked the rocks himself. What was it about the garden that drew her? There was a mystery it wouldn’t take any brain power to solve. She never answered questions with riddles. “Huffle?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmmm?” she asked, clinging to a wall with one hand and gently untangling vines with another.

“Why do you like the garden so much?”

“It’s where I’m older.” She carefully curled one tendril around and around a string, then uncurled her claws from it when it happily started grabbing at the support.

“Older than what?”

“Than me.” She reached back for another tangle while Nagi blinked at her. He was apparently not awake enough for this conversation. “I mean, I’m the youngest, and Master made it so we’ll live a long long time. But that means we’re cubs for a long long time too. And sometimes I don’t want to be the youngest, and I don’t want to be a cub. Even Row has to listen to me in the garden. Someday I’m going to have the largest, wildest, strangest, prettiest garden in the whole world, and I’ll have plants from every magical place, and I’ll be a very old, very happy badger playing the garden, and I’ll be just as old as I am now, because plants don’t care how old you are, if you know how to take care of them.” 

Nagi blinked again for a second. Huffle didn’t complain much, but he supposed it could be hard to be the youngest, and the one everyone teased. 

Not as hard as trying to the best of the four of them, however. But Huffle—Huffle was happy, right now, and he wouldn’t tell her so.

“That is very true, and a philosophy worthy of one of Merlin’s familiars,” a cool, amused voice interposed, and Nagi reared back with a hiss, Huffle scrambling around with claws and teeth bared. 

A blue-robed witch was standing in the garden, her gold-white hair coiled around her head, one of her light eyebrows raised on her pale face. There were a few lines of age around her eyes, but her small mouth was firm, and a tiny smile raised the corners.

Huffle didn’t like her. The badger scooted forward till she stood next to Nagi’s rock pile, watching what he did for cues. 

Raising himself till he was close to her height, he nodded his head in welcome. “Are you seeking Merlin?” It had happened, a few times before. His fame was great enough that a few had come looking for help for unusual magical problems, like the man who had accidentally grown pig’s hooves on his hands. 

“Yes, I am, though not perhaps as many do,” she responded. Her voice had a light French accent, only noticeable in her vowels. “I am known to him. You must be Nagi and Huffle; he has spoken of you.”

“I am honored,” Nagi responded, curling his green head down in a snake’s bow. “Our master is not at home; may I tell him who came calling?”

“I am Nimue. I am sorry to have missed him. I ask you to convey my compliments and request that we set a meeting, at his convenience. I am in England for the next week and a half.” Nagi bowed again, and she raised her hand in farewell before Apparating. 

“Well, that was unexpected. I wonder how Master knows her,” Nagi wondered aloud. 

“I don’t like her.”

“I noticed. Why not? She was quite pretty. You like pretty things.”

“She has less life than a plant,” Huffle announced decidedly. Nagi studied her for a moment, then swayed back and forth in a shrug. 

“She has manners, at least, and breeding, if her hair was anything to go by. A pureblood, most likely, but talking to Merlin all the same. I’m quite interested in her.”

“Purebloods don’t like Merlin?” Huffle asked, pausing on her amble back to the vines. 

“They don’t like his insistence on Muggles’ rights, most of them,” Nagi responded dryly. “Though there’s a few on his side. The Westles, perhaps.” 

“Gardens don’t care about blood either,” Huffle remarked, beginning to climb the wall. “So Master’s probably right.”

“Probably,” Nagi agreed absently. He thought for a few more moments. Her accent meant she wasn’t English. Merlin hadn’t left England, not to Nagi’s knowledge, but Nagi hadn’t existed as a magical creature for Merlin’s first four years after school. “Huffle, I want to know more about her. I’m going to go ask Row if she knows who Nimue is.”

“Why bother?”

“Because I’m curious. Aren’t you?”

Huffle swung her head around to look at him. “Noooo,” she replied thoughtfully. “But if you are it will probably be something I should know, and I don’t want to have a joke made later that I don’t know anything. Wait for me, I’m coming.”

The two made their way back into the library, to find Row on top of her favorite bookshelf, an open book before her, and her black beak almost touching the page as she read with one eye. An unsteady-looking stack of books climbed towards the raven, stopping a paw-length below the top. 

“Not here either!” Row snapped, reaching with her beak to flip the book closed with a  _ snap _ , and then pushing it off the bookshelf and onto the stack. The stack swayed alarmingly, and Huffle hurried over to steady it with a paw. “Not here, not there, I’ve checked  _ The History of English Magic _ , and it wasn’t there either. One wouldn’t think  _ unfulfilled _ prophecies would be contained in history books, but I don’t know where else to look. It’s not like Master keeps a book called  _ Sayings of the Future _ , despite how  _ helpful _ that would be.”

“She’s muttering again,” Huffle whispered to Nagi.

“Just like Master.” He shook his head, and raised himself up as high as he could in hopes of getting the raven’s attention. “Row?”

“What?” she snapped, and Nagi relaxed. There had been many times she had been too deep in her own head to hear. 

“Do you know someone called Nimue?”

“French pureblood, female, in her fifties,” Row cawed, flapping and heading towards another bookshelf. She landed on the top shelf, clinging to the little ledge in front of the books.

“Yes, I knew that already, thank you. How does Master know her? Who is she?”

“Oh, they met their last year at school, something about the schools trying an exchange program. It’s stopped now. I always said they needed something competitive, because that’d  _ keep _ the schools involved, but anyway, Beauxbatons sent their best, and she was it. Master was nearly sent there as the exchange, but he slipped out of it when they heard about his fair-for-Muggles tendencies. Where  _ is  _ that book?” Row flapped her wings in frustration, but settled when the bookshelf began rocking. “The two worked together on me, actually. Nimue was brilliant. Is brilliant, probably. She couldn’t keep up with Master with Charms, of course, but her Transfiguration surpassed even his, and if you put the two of them in a room together for more than an hour, a list of new spells came out with them. No, not that book.” Row hopped a little further down the shelf. “She was gifted in Astronomy too, come to think of it. Rumor had them paired up romantically, and you know, I don’t think she would have been opposed, but he had his head in his books and his dreams in the clouds, and by the time he noticed how pretty she was, she was headed back for France. They’ve met a couple times over the years, she thinks wizards should help Muggles. Aha!” She leaned forward, pulling a book backwards with her beak, till it tipped off the shelf and she swooped and caught it in both feet with the ease of long practice. She flew back to her bookshelf and began flipping through it, her beak gentle on the pages. “Why’d you ask about her? How’d you hear of her?”

“She showed up in our garden and I said hello,” Nagi responded dryly.

“You did? Is she still here? Muggles and magics, I must go say hello!”

“She left,” Huffle informed Row, causing the black feathers of the raven to droop. 

“She did?” 

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Row turned back to her book, but flipped the pages with considerably less speed and focus. 

“You wanted to see her?” Huffle asked.

“Well, she did help make me. I’ve always been grateful to her for that. And she was such a good fit for Master. Intellectually. And they had shared sympathies… As I got older I thought it’d be good for him to have her around. To have someone around who could, you know, keep up with him. Share the load, so to speak.”

“She mentioned wanting to see him again,” Nagi mentioned quietly. “She’s in England for a week. A week and a half, actually.” This should make life far more interesting.

“Master will be far too busy to see her,” Row responded listlessly. “He’s fixated on this Arthur person. That’s what I’m trying to find, actually. Merlin knows something about Arthur’s future, and I want to know what it is.”

“Ask him,” advised Huffle. “What?” she asked when both her siblings turned to look at her.

“He always says knowing the future is a burden few people should have to bear.” Row rolled her head. “So he doesn’t tell us anything.”

“Then why do you want to know?”

“Because Master can’t do everything, and you’d know that if you ever thought about him,” Row snapped. “Now leave me alone, I’ve got work to do! Go back outside and play!”

Huffle snuffled, and Nagi slithered over. “She’s just upset about not getting to meet Nimue,” he advised in a hushed voice so the busy raven wouldn’t hear them. “Why don’t you do something to make her feel better?”

Huffle looked around, her glance falling on the swaying stack of books. “I can put these away for her,” she whispered, taking the top three. Nagi glanced at her sad face, thought longingly of his rock in the sunny garden, but sighed and stretched himself up, taking the top book in his mouth. Huffle’s smile lit her whole furry face, and Nagi shook his head at her, his mouth too full to tell her not to make a big deal of it. Together the two of them scurried quietly back and forth, slipping books back into their places, and listening to their eldest sister continually mutter about how she couldn’t find what she was looking for. Once the stack (and the two other books Row added to it without noticing it was diminishing) was back in place, the two youngest headed back for the garden. Nagi coiled back up, content, on the rocks higher than Huffle’s head, and Huffle, after checking the vines, went to go pick flowers for Row. Though the bird didn’t understand just why humans brought them inside, she always had a bouquet in the library and dining hall, because it made the mansion look more important. 

“Even though I don’t like Nimue, today is a good day,” Huffle decided out loud. 

Nagi stirred. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because all of us are home, no one is hurting, and we’re not in trouble,” Huffle declared. 

“That’s ‘cause Griff is eating. And sleeping it off.”

“Do you think if Griff didn’t live with us, we wouldn’t get in trouble?”

Nagi thought about that for a moment. “I think we’d all get into smaller troubles separately.”

“And then there’d be no one to get us out of them.”

“Just so.” Nagi shut his eyes again. 

“Nagi?”

“What?” He loved Huffle, but his patience was running out.

“Don’t make fun of me, please? Not in the garden.” Nagi opened his eyes. “Do you know anything about Arthur?” The badger’s voice was hopeful, expectant. 

Nagi closed his eyes again. “Not yet. But once Row finds what she’s looking for, I’m sure all four of us will know.”

Huffle snorted. She loved Nagi when he was sunning, he was always nice, and he made her laugh. She went back to the garden, ambling down to the herb garden. Master had grown fond of the way Muggles used herbs, and had found some magical uses for them, too. Some forms of Dittany could be used to heal. Rosemary was just for eating, for now. Muggles had found other uses, but she hadn’t learned them yet She went by each herb, reciting the lessons she’d learned in her head. Nagi fell asleep, and she passed the rest of the afternoon re-memorising lessons. 

Merlin came back for supper, and was pleased once again with the lack of trouble about the place, pleased enough to lift the restrictions on their movements. Griff, laying in a corner, roared in pleasure, the other three’s cheers lost in his louder voice. 

Nagi waited till after supper to bring up Merlin’s visitor. Merlin dropped the knife he’d just speared the roasted meat on. “Nimue? Here? When did she call?” 

“Around lunchtime, or a bit after.”

Merlin smiled. “Always proper and polite. Did she say how I was to contact her?” Nagi shook his head. “I’ll find an owl, then, there’s some in the forest. If I use the spell we came up with, it should be intelligent enough to find her. And that would be as clear as a signature. Nimue, in England again! I haven’t seen her since the whole Muggle war debacle, ten, fifteen years ago now. I wonder if she’s changed.” Merlin leaned back in his chair, his food forgotten. “Describe her for me, would you?”

“Taller than average, white-blond hair, pretty, for a human, and with a slight French accent. She holds herself like she could float over water and like dirt doesn’t touch her.” 

Merlin smiled. “She sounds the same.” He paused. “And good descriptions, Nagi.”

Row peered up at him. “Are you going to go see her, Master?”

“I should like to, yes.”

“May I come?”

Merlin looked at her and smiled again. “I should like to introduce all of you, actually. Show her how what we started morphed into so much toil and trouble,” he added lightheartedly. 

“Then you’ll bring her here?” Row cawed excitedly, and Merlin stood. 

“I’m certainly going to try. I’ll go find the owl now, before I get too caught up in anything. Row, you’re in charge.” And he walked out, leaving the four familiars staring after him.

“Was he just teasing us about the trouble we cause?” Griff asked in wonder.

“Told you all she was good for him,” Row said smugly, but Huffle was watching the door worriedly. 

“I still don’t like her,” she said quietly. 

“Oh, do be quiet, Huffle, we  _ know _ ,” Nagi snapped. Stupid badger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So, some sources say lions need to eat every day (females up to 11lbs a day, males a little less), and some say they eat every three to four days. My favorite was the source that read, “Lions are believed to feed every three or four days, and need on average between 5kg and 7kg of meat a day.” … So I am going with feeding every few days.


	5. In Search of a Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: though I write the book, what is in it does not belong to me, for it began, as many stories do, with someone else.
> 
> A/N: I'm sorry I didn't post this yesterday; life has been--eventful.

Row was most unhappy. Her feathers were ruffled, her neck scrunched, and she was beating her tiny head against the book laying open in front of her.

The last few days had actually been rather pleasant. Merlin brought Nimue for a visit, several afternoons in a row, and three of the familiars were favorably impressed. Well, two of them. Rowkelanika already _knew_ Nimue, her gracious airs, her formal but pleasing conversation, and knew the lady’s ability to enchant those she spoke with. Especially Merlin. She’d found Nagi laughing quietly in the garden, after Merlin and Nimue had walked by and Merlin had apparently been so intent on his guest that he’d walked right into one of Huffle’s rosemary beds. Huffle had grunted at him in frustration, but reserved her scowl for Nimue.

“They were discussing how much the art of astronomy might develop if schools allowed centaurs to be teachers,” Nagi said, hissing and chuckling. “Is Master truly unaware of how much he likes her?”

Nagi had liked Nimue too, for she was polite, well-read, and open to the true possibilities of intelligence in the familiars that they rarely found among wizardkind. Griff had perhaps been her favorite, regaling her with the accounts of their adventures (Nagi often dryly interrupting to point out who _truly_ saved everyone in that adventure), and asking her about her own—and about the adventures of her godson, practically her adopted child, a French noble named Lancelot. He was not a wizard, but conversant in the weapons and battles of the Muggles, and Griff sat enthralled every time she recounted what her godson had done, and how he had fought, and what weapons he used.

“He will be famous,” Nimue had prophesied with utter serenity, her accent more pronounced. “With his skill, and his charm, he will be famous. In England and in France. I know it.”

“And with such a charming godmother, his power will no doubt extend outside the field of battle,” Merlin had put in, smiling, though his eyes were intent. “I have not asked you before, but are you still of the same mind, Nimue, about the necessity of wizards to help Muggles? About their rights?”

“I am even yet convinced our power should be used for their good,” Nimue responded firmly, her eyes meeting Merlin’s. “And that those who use the great power wizardkind has to mock or injure those weaker than them are, I have never learned the word, but like a savage selfish dog. My godson has taught me much about their world, Merlin. I used to think your dreams of merging our world and theirs kept your brain in the fluffy clouds, and put fog in your vision, but I have since learned some of the houses of thanes are wizards, and among the wizarding houses of France my godson knows their respect. The power can be shared. It should be shared. Perhaps it was I who did not see the sky, rather than you.”

Merlin’s smile had been larger than any of his familiars remembered seeing. Even Huffle admitted that.

Huffle had hidden herself under tables and chairs, and would not be charmed out (regardless of how many times both Merlin and a gentle Nimue tried), but if Huffle determined to make foolish choices, that was her own fault. The rest of them had been happy.

Yes, those had been a series of very good day for Row. Nimue had come over every day, and with Griff tamed by her stories, Nagi enjoying her wit, and Merlin loving her company, the house had been uplifted to the manners and intellectual conversations Row had known belonged.

But now that Nimue was gone, Row was again looking for prophecies about Arthur, and there just weren’t any. Anywhere. In any book.

Okay, perhaps Row had not checked every book, but if the prophecy about Arthur was written in Huffle’s collection of recipes, or the book of child’s spells, it wouldn’t have been important enough to catch Master’s notice. Row had checked _almost_ every book.

And she hadn’t found the prophecy anywhere.

Which meant it wasn’t in Merlin’s library.

Process of elimination, then. Would it be in other libraries?

Not Muggle ones; only a few monasteries _had_ libraries, and those generally held religious works or fictional tales. True prophecies, probably not.

What about other wizarding libraries, then? Quills and parchment had been in their hands far more often than that of the Muggles. Yet wizards guarded their libraries fiercely; a raven, even a talking, thinking, conversing raven, would not be allowed access without Merlin’s help, and for Merlin to help he would have to be told what she was looking for, and Merlin would tell her not to look for it.

She could break in. Nagi would help, if she could convince him it was for the good of both himself and Merlin’s reputation.

She’d save that as a last resort.

Who else?

Who else would be interested in the future?

Centaurs. But they were interested in the future only as told by the stars, and seldom interested in writing it down.

Not the brownies, the little meek elves Muggles sometimes tamed. They looked no further than home and hearth.

If the mer-folk wrote anything down, it would be in a language Row didn’t know; and what cared they for the future of the land?

Goblins. Now there was a thought. Clever people—and goblins are very clever—knew the power given by foreseeing the future. Goblins would not care who asked for a book, if it was worth their while. Could she make it worth their while?

They cared for many things; metals, power, respect, tools for their skilled and clever fingers. Huffle had a collection of odd items, some quite valuable. She always seemed to find things, and while Merlin sometimes donated the valuable things she found, or, if necessary, used them, he let her keep the ones she loved the most. Huffle might have something. And Huffle was often willing to share.

Thus Row lifted her head from the book she’d been attempting to dent her beak on and went in search of Huffle. She checked the gardens first, because anyone looking for Huffle always checked the gardens first, and she found Huffle and Griff playing a giggling game of tag with Nagi. Nagi had, as usual, used his brains and slithered up a narrow pole meant to hang nets on, when crows were too numerous, and was watching Griff and Huffle attempt to jump up and touch him with an air of superiority.

Well, Row liked winning a game as much as any of her siblings, and she flew up, up, till Nagi wouldn’t see her shadow, then dived and scooped him off the pole, flying to the nearest watering bucket and letting go. Nagi made a lovely splash, and came up spluttering, hissing at the Raven circling the bucket and cawing her triumph.

“I would have chosen a different perch if I knew winged carrion were involved.” He leveled himself on the edge of the bucket and snapped at her, head darting through the air. She backed quickly away; perhaps she had gone too far. But she wasn’t going to admit it.

“A full-grown familiar is a help to the wizard in all circumstances by using their senses to note things in the world the human senses miss,” she retorted. “I was helping your awareness.” Nagi hissed at her, but climbed down the side of the bucket, wriggling his body to fling off the water drops. Griff came racing over, one paw extended to tag him.

“I win!”

“Do not,” the snake sulked. “ _Rowena_ does.”

Row opened her beak indignantly, but closed it as she realized she rather deserved it. “Huffle, I was looking for you.” The badger looked up, her long nose pointed in Row’s direction. “I’m looking for something of value to trade to the Goblins. Do you have anything?”

Huffle rubbed her cheeks with her paws. “I don’t know. What’s valuable to a goblin?” Row’s feathers bushed out.

“Silver,” a wet Nagi commented, gliding closer. “They like silver, to work into precious things, and I believe you have a collection of silver coins you found in that forgotten saddlebag by the river. But the true question is, Huffle, why does your sister want something of value to the Goblins?” He peered at Row, whose feathers were gradually falling. 

She would tell her siblings what she found. Of course she would. There was a great advantage to be had in numbers. Just, not yet. When she found the _answer_ , though, and not just a vague idea they’d continually poke holes in because she didn’t have the knowledge to back it up yet! “I am looking for something the Goblins may have,” she answered stiffly.

“And you think you can bargain it away from them? Really, Rowkelanika, remember what Master says of them? Do not mess with them, nor ever cheat them, for they are clever beyond your ken.” He came closer, right under her, black eyes fixed on hers. Unwavering. Hypnotic. “I could help you gain what you want.”

He could, Row was suddenly sure of that. Perhaps she should let him help. Perhaps…What? Row blinked. She blinked again. Why, that snake! “You have no idea what you’re getting into!” she snapped. “Nice try, Nagi. Absolutely not, not if you’re going to be like that! Huffle, I’m taking the silver, and I’m leaving with it, because _I’m_ not confined to the house, because _I_ make smart decisions!” She flew off in a flurry of ruffled feathers.

The other three sat frozen, watching where she’d gone towards the house, till Huffle asked uncertainly, “Was that a smart decision?”

“No, it really wasn’t,” Nagi snarled, sliding in wide circles restlessly. “She’s the best choice of the four of us to read the book, but not the best to get it. She won’t be able to handle the Goblins. Especially not some of the nastier companies. She needs us with her, or Master.”

“You just want to go along so you can do something to impress Master and get out of trouble,” Griff accused.

Nagi whirled on him. “You-“ He raised himself up to the lion’s eyes, tongue flickering out, while Griff stood stolidly still. Daring the snake to do something. Nagi collapsed back to the ground. “I would not mind getting out of trouble, and yes, I want Master to see what should be obvious to anybody, that _I_ can handle Goblin deals and Goblin races. I’m not denying it. But _think_ , Griff. This is Row. What chance do you think she has of pulling this off?”

Griff hesitated, and Huffle edged closer to the quarreling brothers. “Master did say Row probably wouldn’t get on with most other familiars and magical creatures,” she offered timidly.

“Unless their habits and mannerisms catch her attention, or their station won her respect, Row would be dismissive. She is inexperienced enough that to let her interact with normal parts of the wizarding world is unadvised,” Nagi parroted from Merlin’s explanation, after Row had asked why Huffle and Griff were allowed to meet with the Centaurs but Merlin instructed Row to stay inside.

“Fine,” Griff grumbled. “Yes, this is probably going to be a disaster, and yes, we should be there to help. I’m in. For Row.”

“But we’re not supposed to leave the house,” Huffle piped up worriedly.

“Oh, grow some courage! I’m a snake and I’ve got a better spine than you do. Once Master finds out why we broke the rules he’ll excuse us. We’ve got to find out which Goblins group Row is headed towards.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Griff whined as Nagi whirled on him again. “I’m not making fun, I’m asking. You’re supposed to be the cunning one.”

“We go into Master’s room. He’s got a scale from me, a feather from her, a claw-tip from you, Huffle, and the same from Griff. He’s charmed them to help find us, if he ever needed to. We steal Row’s—I’ve got the word to activate it—and we use it to follow her.”

“We’re not supposed to steal,” Huffle exclaimed as Griff frowned, lips curling back in distaste.

“Take, then, not steal,” Nagi rejoined. “If you don’t want to do it, stay here. I’m doing it anyway, and you really don’t want to stop me.” He slithered away, and Huffle and Griff looked at each other.

“Should we stop him?” she asked her big brother.

Griff sat on his hind paws. “I don’t think so. This is to help take care of Row, and Master always approves of that, if we do it sensibly.”

“We’re breaking so many rules,” Huffle whined. “Row really wouldn’t want us to.”

Griff shrugged and stretched his back, claws coming out. “Sometimes rules have to be broken. You’ll learn that when you’re older, Huffle, just wait,” he added importantly, and Huffle sighed. She hoped he was right. She noticed his eyes were fixed on the door, though, and he was still. Perfectly, completely still, like he always was when something wrong happened or was going to happen.

Even if Row and Master didn’t mind, _Huffle_ didn’t like this.

Nagi came back minutes later, chasing a black feather that floated a hand’s breadth above the ground. He slid by them without comment, Griff whirling, picking up Huffle in his mouth and throwing her on his back, then loping with easy strides to catch up to the snake. He bent his head and picked Nagi up too. As Nagi rose the feather rose as well, and as Nagi twisted around Griff’s neck and the lion sped up, the feather sped up. Their hunt had begun.

Many minutes before, Row had dived into the tunnels in Huffle’s room, guiltily rustling through her things—she’d probably upset her sister by leaving like the three of them like that, but _honestly_ . Her _siblings_ . She found the bag of silver, heaved it around her neck, and dragged it into Merlin’s experiment room, picking up a pre-written note and hopping to the shelf to look for something else.. Thank the founders the room was so close or she’d never have managed to carry the silver all the way, she thought to herself as she picked up a tiny charmed stone, pecked the bag open, and dropped the stone inside. She pulled the bag strap around herself again, easily this time, as it weighed nothing, and flew to the window and out. She didn’t feel like going past her siblings again. Nagi might, no, he _would_ , try to follow her. She didn’t need help, thank you not-so-much.

So she’d left. Goblins had ways of sending things quickly to each other, which meant she just had to make her way to the closest Goblin settlement, and bargain for the book.

She had a plan for that bargain. Foolish Nagi! He’d understand that she, the eldest, didn’t need help, that no matter what he tried, she was the smartest. He might be the most famous, if he wanted it, she didn’t care, but she would be the smartest, the most responsible, the one _Master_ trusted. If she could find this—on her own, just her, if she could get all the information for the beginning, and then direct the others (they’d listen to her if she had all the information—well, Huffle would because _Huffle_ , and the others if she knew what she was doing)—if she could figure everything out for Master, he’d see and trust her, no matter what he faced, he’d see she was clever en-

She’d flown too far over the forest, the trees below getting thicker, taller, forcing her up and up again, and she’d missed the heading for the mountain. She fussed inwardly. She was acting like Nagi! So caught up in the rewards for doing something that she wasn’t doing it with all her attention. No more.

She banked on one wing, heading for the mountains in the distance. The Goblins had a village there, a village with a chief. And she knew the chief’s symbol. She would find him.

Down below and far behind, Griff strode steadily on, his cat eyes fixed on the feather. With his siblings riding he didn’t run; Huffle had fallen off before, and Nagi would complain. (Nagi could fall off all he liked. Arrogant git.)

The tree branches were blocking out more of the light; Row’s black floating feather was getting harder to see. At least for his siblings. He was a lion, and lions see quite well in the dark.* This was going to be his adventure; he couldn’t wait.

Once they found Row, anyway. Silly bird; why’d she have to fly away? It wasn’t like Griff was going to take the credit, and while Nagi might try, Master was too smart not to understand they both would have contributed. Adventures would be so much more fun if those two just stopped thinking about themselves! Griff wound around a tree trunk, careful not to jostle either sibling. There were times being so big was irritating, but right now, it was awesome. He could carry both his siblings, and keep them safe, and catch up with Row. He sped up, just a bit; he could see in the dark, but Row couldn’t, not as well. Cat eyes fixed on that feather, head ducking around trees, wind rustling past his ears and fur. It had been too long since he’d hunted; all that existed in the world was the hunt. 

“Stop!” Nagi hissed, and Griff stopped at once. His brother often caught what Griff did not, when the lion focused on a hunt. “Humans, I think, up ahead, if I remember Master’s marked map correctly,” the snake whispered. “We need to go around.”

“What about the feather?” Huffle asked anxiously, bouncing up and down on Griff’s back. “If we lose the feather we can’t find Row!”

“Shhhhh!” Nagi hissed, then whispered “Finem, Accio!” The pre-charmed feather came shooting back, tickling Griff’s cheek, and Nagi shot his head forward to catch it gently in his small mouth. “Nou go roun’!”** Griff nodded, and Huffle crouched down on his back with a whimper. Muggles still scared her, with their non-magic ways and their BIG, BIG animals. Nagi wound himself around her front paw comfortingly.

As silently as cats can, Griff began to creep forward, eyes flickering back and forth, watching for light, his ears raised for any sound. Bit by bit he worked himself forward, halting as the scent of smoke drifted past his nose. 

“Left or right?” he asked his brother.

Nagi traded the feather from his mouth to a curl of his tail. “How should I know?”

“You’re the one that saw the map!”

“And it had a Muggle settlement in front of the mountain, between Master’s house and it, but that doesn’t tell me where we are now! I’m guesstimating as it is!”

“Left,” Huffle whispered.

“How would you know?” Nagi hissed.

“Because we have to pick one, and whichever one we pick will eventually go around, so let’s go left!” Both of her brothers blinked.

“Right, badgers are more awake at night, trust them to think,” mumbled Griff. “Left it is.” He slunk left, avoiding a large, low branch and a bush.

“We also have common sense,” Huffle whispered back, and if she was a little smug, perhaps she can be forgiven for that. It wasn’t often she got one over her brothers. 

“Yes, that’s all very helpful, but be quiet,” Nagi ordered shortly. They were still near the Muggle village. And he didn’t like what Huffle implied.

The next half hour passed in silence, four ears (for Nagi hadn’t any) and one long body alert for the slightest sound. They went left till the scent of smoke ceased, then forward, and when the three thought they were past the village, Nagi spoke the command to the feather again. It lifted from his tail, flitting forward past the yellow ears, and Griff crouched again, ready to speed forward. 

“Quietly!” hissed Nagi, feeling the muscles under him tense. Griff grumbled, but walked forward instead of loping at a run. Huffle settled herself into a more comfortable position, and they were off again, feeling quite proud of themselves for avoiding that pitfall.

But that feeling did not last long, because it began to rain. And even Griff, who enjoyed adventures, began to feel that this one really was not worth the excitement. Nagi curled himself deep into Griff’s mane, trying to avoid the water that slowly, constantly dripped on them, and Huffle began to whimper. Her brothers tried to ignore her, but as they got wetter and wetter her cries grew more piteous, and Griff, feeling the ache in his muscles doubled by guilt at her misery, finally snapped.

“Oh, do be quiet Huffle! It’s just water!”

“Master says it’s harder for Row to fly in the rain.*** Is—is she ok? What are we going to do if she's not?”

“We find her and take her home,” Griff said shortly.

“And how are we going to get home? I can’t find home any longer, the rain washed the smells away!” Huffle wailed, and Griff paused. Nagi, too, froze with his head poking out of the wet mane. Neither of them had thought about how they were going to get home. Merlin’s mansion was a lot harder to find than a mountain. And there wouldn’t be a feather to lead them to it, if Row was in trouble.

“We find Row first,” Griff stated grimly, walking. “Always do the next step in the adventure if you can.”

“I don’t like adventures,” Huffle sniffled. 

“Neither do I, but we’re on one, so do stop whining,” Nagi snapped. “You said in the garden you didn’t always want to be a baby, so stop acting like one!” 

Huffle quieted her whines to sniffles at the snake’s words, but it must be admitted that all three were very unhappy. 

Another half hour passed. The rain ceased, thought water droplets still fell quietly from the trees. Griff’s paws and legs were caked in mud and wet leaves, and he was beginning to drag, just a little. But he was a lion, a hunter, and he never let his eyes wander from the soaked, scrawny feather ahead of them. So it was Griff who noticed when the feather halted. Griff took another weary step, testing it. The feather stayed still. “Nagi?” he whispered, his eyes not leaving it. Nagi, can the charm wear o-” he blinked as the feather moved again, this time heading right back for them. “Nagi, the feather’s coming here!” Nagi hissed above him, raising his head, squinting to see in the dark.

“Row’s above us!” he hissed, and Griff, lifting his head, _roared_.

Nagi and Huffle sat dumbly, their ears ringing, as he ceased.

“You _idiot_ ,” Nagi lashed out. “What possessed you to do that? Any Muggle within hearing is either fleeing to tell tales or heading straight for us with axes!”

“It’s dark, Row can’t see well, and she’s safer with us. If hunters come, you three hide.”

“We _all_ should be hiding,” cawed a sharp voice from above. “ _What are you doing here?_ ”

“Row!” chorused the other three in relief. 

“No, it’s another talking raven, coming to investigate a lion’s roar _in the middle of England in the middle of the night_. You idiots!” 

“The Goblins didn’t get you?” Huffle asked anxiously, spilling off of Griff’s back, heedless of the mud, and heading towards the scent she could now smell. Behind her Nagi muttered the words to call the charmed feather back to him. 

“No. I knew they wouldn’t. You three, you idiots, you’re just—did you really think I couldn’t handle it? I knew what I was doing! You just-”

“You’re out of breath,” Huffle interrupted anxiously. “Row, what’s wrong?”

There was a short silence. All three of the younger ones knew Row was fighting herself, between telling them what was wrong, and doing this all herself. 

“I had to trade the silver and the charmed stone that lifted whatever was in the bag for me,” she admitted at last. “I’ve had to take break after break just to carry this silly book back. I just want to be home. In the library, reading, and just—figuring this out.” 

“Give me the book, Row,” Griff commanded. He saw her shift from one bird foot to another, and sighed impatiently. “I’ve carried both my siblings this far. I’ve got the biggest, strongest body, and I’m not likely to steal a book from you, of all things.**** You can have it back when we get home. But I don’t want to wait for you to rest all the time. And you can’t keep carrying it, Row. You know that.” Row sighed, but let the securely closed bag fall to the ground, and Griff picked it up and let it hang around his neck. He felt Nagi tugging at his mane.

“Home,” the snake said, and it wasn’t quite a plea. 

“Home,” Huffle begged, running back to Griff and jumping onto his back of her own accord. She looked at Row. “Come on, Row. Please?”

“You weren’t supposed to come after me,” Row muttered, but she glided down onto the lion as well, glad to rest her wings. 

“Right. Which way?” Griff asked, turning completely around in one swift jump. 

“Straight ahead,” Row ordered. “And watch out, there’s a-”

“-village of Muggles,” Nagi chorused with her. “We know. I checked the map.”

Huffle was perhaps the happiest on the way back home. Row was fine, and they hadn’t been chased by Muggles. Griff might have been as satisfied with a hunt completed, were he not so exhausted. Every step forward was one his siblings didn’t have to take, but home, home, home was all he could think of. Home, where it was dry. Where his siblings were safe. 

Row spoke up, giving him directions. A little more to the right. He wished Row understood that she couldn’t do something without involving the rest of them. It was just part of being their family, in a world where so many dangerous things would want to hurt them. Nagi and Row were both much more preoccupied with what Master was going to think when they got home. 

“Tell me what happened with the Goblins,” Nagi asked, perhaps an hour later. Anything to get his mind off their coming lecture and punishment. Besides, he was curious. Row shook herself from the brood she’d fallen into.

“Why?” Though she couldn’t help but notice all three siblings were listening. Quite intently.

“Because I want to know how you managed them.”

Row shrugged. “Well, Goblins are clever. I knew if I went there as a clever person myself, I’d have to bargain. So I wrote down a note, and when I got to their town with the bag-

“What was the town like?” Griff interrupted, ears pricking up. 

“Like any Goblin town,” Row responded with annoyance.

“But I haven’t been to any of those yet!”

“Then go yourself sometime and find out!” She smoothed down a few of her ruffled feathers. “As I was _saying_ , as a raven with a leather bag, it was automatically assumed I was wizard’s familiar, but they expected me to be like the others—mute, dumb beasts who couldn’t bargain. So when they opened the bag and found the silver and the note, they either had to accept it or not, no bargaining allowed. Since they hadn’t shaped it yet, they couldn’t take it without stealing it,***** and they were too greedy to refuse. Only the note offered the ‘contents of the bag’ in exchange for a book of prophecies about the near-future, and the Goblins took the silver _and_ the charmed stone, grasping creatures! And while the book isn’t as heavy as a pile of silver, still, I missed that stone.”

“You let the Goblins think you were an idiot, and it _worked_ ,” Nagi mused, amusement creeping into his tone.

“Being underestimated is a highly valuable ploy,” Row sniffed haughtily. 

“Will it be worth it?” Nagi asked quietly. “Not the victory, though you know I value that. The book.”

“Yes, Row, what’s in it?” Huffle inquired sleepily. Row hesitated.

“Come on, we’ve come all this way just to come after you. At least tell us what’s inside,” Griff complained.

“Future prophecies,” Row admitted. 

“So you said. Why’re they important?” Nagi blinked slowly in question.

“I want to know what has Master so concerned about our immediate future,” Row explained. “Something’s got him gone even more than usual. He keeps mentioning this Arthur, and I want to know who Arthur is. Apart from a Muggle, a thane, and, Master says, a good man. Someone Huffle would like, I think. But I want to know who he will be. Not just who he is.”

“And why Master watches him so much.” Nagi sighed heavily. “This is so much more work than I want to do.”

“Then don’t worry about it, because _I’m_ doing it,” Row snapped, feathers rustling again.

“Really? You really think this will just be you? Rowkelanika, look around! We’re all soaking wet, miles from home, Griff’s got paws that will be sore for days, Huffle might catch a cold, and _none of us are complaining_ , because you might have needed us. You did need us, to get this book home. If this is so big—if it has so much of Master’s attention—it’s going to need more than just yours as well. So grow up!”

“You just want the credit-“

“I don’t!” Nagi snapped. “Look around! How many of us do you see? That’s right, _three_. I didn’t go off by myself, like someone else did. I brought my siblings, because I knew I’d need them. I was smart enough to know that. You weren’t. But you’re going to have to be, if you want to actually help Master. If you want to do something more than watch from the sidelines. You’re going to have to get used to asking for help.”

Row fell silent. Nagi was one to talk. But earlier, on her way to the mountain, she had lost focus. And she had been struggling to get the book home. She looked at the strap around Griff’s neck, tangled in his mane, then at Huffle, still balanced on the middle of Griff’s back. He’d been carrying so much for hours, and hadn’t complained once. He hadn’t interjected once, on Nagi’s side or hers. He was probably too tired to talk, much less to argue. “I’ll keep you all in the loop,” she promised, though her tone was partly bitter.

“Great,” Nagi said wearily. “Because next time it would be much, much easier if you’d just let us in ahead of time.” Huffle sniffled, and Row deflated. She hopped back towards the badger, ducking under Huffle’s raising paw and tucking her head under her sister’s warm fur. Her sister wouldn’t scold her, even if Row was wrong.

None of them spoke much after that. All four, even the two who remembered an angry wizard might be waiting for them, were glad to see the lights of the hut, shining on the wet, wet garden.

“Wait!” Row croaked softly as Griff made wearily for the door. He paused, almost stumbling. “Hide the book first. Behind these trees, here; Master goes the other way towards the village.” Griff shrugged his shoulders, ducking his head, trying tiredly to get the strap off, and Huffle hurried forward to help him, scooping the strap up in her claws and lifting it over his head. Griff shoved the leather with one paw until it was under the small bush, and then turned back towards the door, Nagi, Huffle, and Row slipping off his back and taking their own weight. Oh, the sweet, sweet light of home.

Ten more steps, Huffle was counting. One. Two. Three. She pushed against Griff as he stumbled. Her big, brave brother, who had walked and walked and _walked_. Six. Seven. Eig-

The wooden door flew open, and a fully robed Merlin stood in the entrance, one hand by his side and the other clenching his wand.

“Where have you _been_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Lion’s do, in fact, see quite well at night. Badgers don’t, and I couldn’t find out if snakes did, but lions do. Thank you, Griff, for erasing a problem I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with. 
> 
> **I doubt any of you want to know this, but I stuck my finger between my teeth and said the sentence to figure out which syllables can actually be said with a mouth full. 
> 
> ***Birds apparently have oil that coats their feathers, to make them more waterproof, but the changes rain makes to air makes it harder to fly, which is why most birds perch during a storm. 
> 
> ****This is Griff’s own opinion. I, personally, would love to have taken a look into that book. 
> 
> *****From what I’ve read, Goblins have no problem tricking someone or bargaining someone to a point where it’s almost cheating, but Goblins do not actually steal an item unless they believe it’s theirs to begin with.


	6. Confined to the House, Oh Goody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I got this chapter’s idea from a movie (can you guess which one?), I got the character ideas from J.K. Rowling, and I got Merlin and Arthur from legends. This is a conglomeration of others’ ideas and I’m not making any profit from it.

All four familiars winced when Merlin’s menacing tone met their ears, but Griff, who had frankly been doing far too much, collapsed on the ground with his large paws covering his eyes. Merlin, who had been drawing himself up to his fullest height to deliver a lecture, looked at the lion and changed his mind. Pointing his wand at the exhausted animal, he muttered “Wingardium Leviosa” and, lifting the lion magically, escorted him inside, setting him down right before the fireplace. The other three trailed in after them, and Merlin, without looking, summoned several rough towels. He curled one into a nest for Row, laid one out straight for Nagi to slither about on, stuffed one into Huffle’s claws, and charmed two more to dry Griff off by themselves. A muttered spell, repeated for each of his feet, cleaned the lion’s paws, the leaves flaking to the floor and crumbling away. Griff was asleep before Merlin finished one side.

Merlin stood, looking at the others. Nagi luxuriously stretched himself out before the fire, already dried from rolling on his towel, but the girls still looked miserable. He charmed their towels with a flick of his wand, and summoned their dinner over with a muttered, “Accio!” The bowls landed in front of the fire, and Merlin allowed them to settle in front of the food, dry, warming, before he strode over.

“I will ask you quietly, so you do not wake your chariot, but I will ask you only once. What have you been doing?”

Huffle began sniffling, but Merlin stayed unmoved, glaring down at them. Row gulped. “It was—I had something I wanted to discuss with the Goblins, a question about something I read.”

“The Goblins,” Merlin repeated. “One of the cleverest races alive. A race known for its greed. A race that loves delicate and magical things. _You took yourself to a place that would have loved to keep you?_ ” Row shrank back, and felt Nagi coiling around her.

“She had good reason, Master. Or rather, she thought she did. She was focused on a project, and set out to achieve it.”

“ _Focused on a project._ And what project, Rowkelanika, _was worth your life or possible life-long imprisonment?_ ” Merlin’s voice grew louder, making Griff stir. Merlin shut his mouth abruptly. “You are all far too tired to appreciate the lecture I have to give. You will sleep, and we will revisit this tomorrow.” He took out his wand, tapping each animal on the head, and their eyes closed, settling into sleep instantly. Merlin set Row on the seat of a chair, once more nested in a towel, and gently bent her head down till her beak rested on her wing. Huffle he set by her brother, warm and safe, and Nagi he coiled into a spiral in front of the fire. Done, he took a step back and looked at the four. His four. His familiars. He stood for a moment and ached. They were so foolish, so prone to jumping in without thinking. If the future came as he saw, if Muggle and magic mixed, they might not survive.

Perhaps he should send them to Nimue. They loved her, and she would care for them. 

But there were _his_ . And Huffle would hate going. Surely he could keep them safe; surely they could learn caution. After all, they’d gone to the _Goblins_ and come back successful; they’d never have come back without getting their paws on whatever-it-was. Perhaps they could learn to deal with the magical and Muggle worlds around them.

Perhaps.

He turned and left, his heart heavy.

The next morning the four woke to Griff’s moans as he tried to get up, his paws aching, the pads split. Huffle nosed along his side in comfort, and the other two drew nearer.

“All right?” Nagi asked abruptly. Griff growled.

“Once I get to my feet, maybe!” He heaved himself up, another growl rumbling through the room as his four paws took his weight.

“ _Episkey_.” Merlin’s voice rolled through the room from the doorway, his wand pointed at Griff. The lion felt the cuts and bruises mending, and straightened.

“Much better,” he said, grinning at Merlin.

“Good enough to hear your lecture now?” Merlin asked. Griff’s smile faded, and he and the others braced themselves. “I am most disappointed in you. In _all_ of you. Row is aware, and I assume the rest of you are, that this is an important time. There is much going on. A change is coming, one that may change history forever. I intend to make sure it changes for the better. I cannot do that if the wizarding world is overrun with the stories of my reckless, irresponsible, foolish, and danger-prone familiars. What you do, all of you, reflects directly on me.” Row ducked her head, and Nagi coiled himself tighter in discomfort. “My reputation changes how many wizards listen to me. It changes what I am able to _do_.” He looked directly at Griff, who lowered his gaze. “If you have an idea, discuss it among yourselves, and then bring it to me. It will keep you safe, and it will keep the wizarding world’s respect for our house. It will also help to keep me sane, not that I think that matters much to you.” Huffle rubbed at her cheeks in distress, and Merlin softened, voice gentling. “What have you to say?”

“We’re sorry,” “I’m sorry,” I’m very sorry, Master,” chorused the familiars.

“So am I. I had thought, Row, I could trust you outside the house, but it seems you were the ringleader in this. This, Row, is the authority you were looking for. Whether you meant them to or not—and I would not be surprised you attempted this on your own—your siblings follow where you lead. Consider your actions knowing three others will do as you do. Griff,” and the lion bravely met his gaze, ready to accept his own lecture, “I can see how you cared for your siblings, and for that I commend you. But bravery is of little use without wisdom, for bravery cannot always get your siblings out of scrapes your foolishness pulls them into. Learn it. Nagi, Huffle, I’ve yet to learn your parts, but try to be a voice of sense to your more adventurous siblings. For now, the four of you are confined to the dining hall. I have charmed the walls, the door, and the windows. Row, do not even think about using the roof to escape. By afternoon the charms will lift, because by then my experiment—currently still undergoing testing—will be done, and I should be able to confine the four of you to the house and garden. Even the river will be off-limits. I will not lift this spell till I am certain you have learned enough sense. Considering your history, that may not be ever.” He looked at the four of them again, from the oldest to the youngest. “I reiterate, I am very disappointed in all of you.” He turned and left. Three wooden bowls shot through the door and landed rattling on the table before the door closed. The four stood, a sick feeling in their stomachs.

“I feel awful,” Huffle said despondently. “I hate it when he’s gentle and hard at the same time. It makes me feel like I made the biggest mistake in the world.”

“You’re not alone.” Griff reached his head down and nudged her. “Go eat. You’ll probably feel better afterwards.”

Huffle shuffled towards the table, and Nagi trailed after her. Griff stopped in front of Row, who hadn’t moved.

“You should eat too.”

“Go away.”

“Row, I mean it. You flew miles yesterday. Go eat.”

“Go. Away.”

“Go eat now, Row.”

“Shut up!” Her beak came up and she flapped her wings at him, tiny eyes fierce.

Griff took a moment to get a hold on his temper, letting his tail slow its swinging. His pain was gone, and with his body back to full strength, he felt equal to whatever punishment they deserved. “I know you’re angry at me for another punishment, but not eating-“

“What do _you_ know.” Row’s full attention was fixed on him now, beak jabbing forward with each word. “This isn’t _your_ punishment. It’s mine. The severest one we’ve ever had, and it’s entirely my fault. And we’re inside, unable to go out, locked in the _dining hall_ . I can’t even get that—item we got last night, to pass the time. And it’s all my fault! But I didn’t _ask_ you all to come after me!” Her beak clacked on the last word, and she nearly fell off the chair.

“I’m sorry,” Griff said quietly.

Row’s frantic motions slowed. “I hate it sometimes, when you do that.”

“Do…what?”

“Apologise. Every time you do, I know I should be able to do that. But even now, I just-“ she paused.

“I’m sorry we made things worse.” Griff suddenly grinned. “And that you needed our help. Come on, you can at least apologise like that, right? Apology and insult, all at once? It’ll be good practice for actual apologies.”

Row chuckled, a raven’s throaty chuckle. “I’m—sorry, then. Sorry you all dragged yourselves after me, against Master’s express orders, and got yourselves into more trouble.” She looked down. “Thanks, though. For taking the—item.” She looked up. “Do you think Master will find it, and keep it?”

Griff groaned. “I hope not. All that work for nothing? That’d be a dragon-sized pain.”

“It might teach you wisdom,” Row retorted, sounding a bit like her old self. She looked towards the table, and Griff turned and walked towards it. She followed, a bit grumpy, but hungry.

Griff watched the three eating, and yawned. He moved back over to the fireplace, stretching out before it, and soon went back to sleep. The other three, aware of how tired he would be, kept quiet. After breakfast they went to join him, and they slept till the afternoon, when Merlin came back, holding four metal rings large enough to fit around his head.

“Finished,” he said, and the four, looking at him, felt guilty once again. He looked so _tired_ , eyes half-closed, hands lax around the rings. He didn’t stumble—he was never ungraceful—but there was a slowness to his steps. They scrambled over to him as one, circling around his feet. He yawned.

“These will produce a most unpleasant sensation if you attempt to leave the garden and the house. It will continue for three minutes, and then it will put you to sleep, if you remain outside those boundaries. I wouldn't recommend testing it. Row, if you fly more than a sapling’s height above this roof, the same will apply. I’d like to get it to the point where it just won’t let you over, and the sensation can be removed, but there’s only so much I can do in _one night_. There are also protection spells woven in, born of love, the strongest I can make. It took forever to get them to bond to metal, it’s something I’ve never tried before. So don’t even think about trying to get the spells to lift, it would backfire in ways that might obliterate the house and all your siblings. Is that clear?” He looked at each of the four, all of them nodding. “Then your leg, Row, if you please.” He held out his arm, the dark blue robe draped gracefully over it, and she fluttered up, holding one foot out while flapping her wings to stay balanced. He placed one of the large rings around it, and it whirled, shrinking, smaller and smaller, till it fit tightly but not cruelly around her leg. He placed one on the round in front of Griff and the lion stepped in it, Merlin lifting it till it was just above his paw, and it shrank to fit him there as well. Nagi’s went just below his head, and Huffle’s, at her request, around one hind paw. “There,” Merlin said, yawning. “Done. I’m going to bed. Wake me up if the world ends or Nimue comes back.” He turned, slowly making his way back into the hall and towards his bedroom. The four looked at each other, then at the new bracelets.

“Are we going to test them?” Griff asked, regarding his doubtfully.

“I’m not foolish enough to test Master’s spells, but it would not surprise me to learn _you_ are.” Nagi did not like being leashed; the indignity bothered him as much as the loss of freedom.

“And I have other things to do,” Row murmured. “Though—depending on where the limit is, I may have to test it.”

“The book,” Nagi said, looking up with glittering eyes.

“In the trees just outside the clearing at the front of the house.” Row swallowed. “How unpleasant do you think it is?”

“Not too bad!” Huffle said immediately. “Master wouldn’t make it _hurt_.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to do it for you?” she offered timidly.

“Oh, _Huffle_ ,” Row chirped, even while Nagi quite firmly said, “ _No_.”

“I’m going to go get it,” Griff said calmly. “Race you to it!” He leaped for the door, bounding through it (Merlin had left it open) before the other three had time to process what he said.

“ _Griff!_ ” the three cried, hurrying after him.

“He was told just last night to learn wisdom, and this is the first thing he does,” Nagi muttered under his breath, trying to hurry, slipping again on the smooth stone. Row was already gone, and even Huffle was hurrying. He reached the door just as they stopped near the trees, hesitating. Griff had his hind paws in the clearing, his front paws in the trees, and his head buried in the bush. He dragged himself backwards, the bag in his mouth, plopping his body onto the grass once he was back inside the clearing.

“I’m fine!” he called, once he got his teeth and tongue clear of the leather.

“Stupid lion,” Nagi muttered, angry. It was just so _Griff_.

Row hopped towards the bag, leaving Griff to reassure Huffle that he was all right, he hadn’t felt a thing. She popped open the bag with her beak, and began to pull the item out, her beak clenched around one corner. Huffle hurried to help her, curiosity also compelling her.

They pulled out a stack of parchment about as tall as Row and as wide as one wing-span, beautifully bound in engraved silver. There were very few pages.

Row flipped the cover open, the other three crowding around her, Nagi’s small head popping up by hers, and Griff and Huffle’s higher up. _Arthur’s Reign_ was written by quill on the first page, and Row bent her beak carefully to flip to the next page.

It was a drawing, painted in color with blurry lines. The familiars frowned, surprised.

“It’s a very nice drawing,” Huffle offered, her gaze lingering on the white arm emerging from the blue lake, holding a sword straight up.

“It’s a nonsensical drawing,” Nagi disagreed, eyes on the two men—one in wizard’s robes—on the shoreline. The wizard was gesturing towards the sword, dark blue robes stark against the bright green trees behind them. The other was clearly a well-off thane, ornately tuniced, helmeted and with a spear in hand. “And it can’t be the future. Prophecies are supposed to be words, correct?” He turned his head towards Row, who would know.

“They are for humans,” Row responded soberly. “We got this from the Goblins. Centaurs read stars. Who knows what the Goblins do?”

“But why is there a sword in a lake?” Huffle asked.

“They’re expensive, cherished. Why would someone put one in the water?” Griff agreed. Row flapped her black wings.

“I don’t know.” She bent forward and flipped the heavy parchment, showing the next page. A stone hall, larger than their own, with indistinct people crowding around the edges. In the middle was a round, wooden table, with high-backed chairs placed around it.

“I don’t get this one either,” Huffle confessed.

“Look,” Nagi murmured, letting his head tap the table in front of a chair. When he backed his head away they saw an ornate circle of gold, large enough to set on someone’s head, brought to towering points at regular intervals around the circle.*

“ _Arthur’s Reign_ . A king,” Row breathed. “A _Muggle_ king. And look at all those seats around the table. This isn’t some small lord. This is a new hall. A new table. A new king.” She paused. “Arthur. I would gamble on it. He’s the second son of a thane—or not, Master said, he said everyone was wrong—but he will be a king.”

“At a _round_ table,” Nagi pointed out. “I’ve not seen the like, in all the halls I’ve slipped into.” Griff began to interject, and Nagi waved his head pointedly. “Not now. I was merely curious, and thought it advisable to see how Muggles lived. But Master mentioned change, remember? Change is coming, one that history will remember, that might _change_ history. A king who brings changes.”

“What is Master going to do with a king?” Huffle asked worriedly. 

“Go with him to get a sword, probably. Row, flip back a page.” Griff stuck his nose close to the blurry figures on the shore once Row obliged. “Doesn’t that look like Master?”

“Move your head out of the way and let us see,” Nagi grumbled. When Griff pulled his head back up, the other three stared. 

“It could be Merlin,” Griff insisted.

“It is,” Row said shortly. “Master wouldn’t leave something this big alone. Nimue always _said_ he’s got dreams the size of the Hogwarts lake. But what’s he planning?” She flipped a page, then another, past the round table. It showed a thane’s—no, a _king’s_ —hall. Filled with people.

“Look at all those swords,” Nagi whispered. His eyes were fixed on the collection of men sitting along the long tables, especially the ones near the raised wooden chair. “This—he has wealth. Or power, at least.”

“Look at all the _food_!” Huffle added, and her siblings broke into a short laugh. 

“Yes, Huffle, there’s _lots_ of food. I’m betting it’s a feast,” Row added, eyes flitting from dish to dish.

“A Christmas feast,” Griff added, noting the holly and ivy hung everywhere.**

“Have all of you just missed the Transfigured creature towering on one side of the page?” Nagi poked at the page with his tail. The other three looked.

“What is that?” the lion asked.

“It looks human?” Huffle offered.

“It’s as green as Nagi. Greener,” Griff disagreed. 

“And larger than most humans,” Row mused. “But I think we’re missing the point.” The other three looked at her. “There is a _Transfigured_ being standing there. In a Muggle king’s hall.” The other three blinked.

“So Merlin’s going to have to come and do a lot of Obliviation charms?” Huffle questioned.

“I don’t think so. I think—they might look surprised, it’s hard to tell, but they’re not screaming and running. They’ve seen magic before. That might even be an ambassador, sent to them to negotiate a treaty!”***

“Muggles and magic aware of each other,” Nagi hissed excitedly. 

“A rule that could change history,” Row exulted. “And Master will be a part of it. So will we.”

“Turn the page! Turn the page!” Huffle squealed, and the two siblings with excellent hearing winced, but Row obliged and turned the page. They didn’t understand many of the remaining pictures, of tournaments, tiny men fighting giants and dragons with nothing but Muggle weapons (though Row pointed out those proved her right), a thane riding in a wooden cart, ladies drinking from glass potion bottles, two or three thanes riding through dark valleys, and Huffle’s favorite, a picture of an extravagant wedding. She couldn’t make out any features on the bride, though she was unbudgeably certain the bride was beautiful. 

“Only a few more pages left,” Row observed, turning one more. 

“Then we can go back and see the wedding again!”

“Not again,” both boys groaned. They’d gone back to it twice, Huffle wanting to verify something that later pictures had reminded her of. 

“Let’s see the end first,” Row compromised, flattening the page with her head. 

“Row?” Huffle asked in a small voice, staring at the page. 

“What?”

“Are they—are they ok?” Row looked at the page Huffle was staring at. Bodies were painted strewn over the ground, broken spears, dented shields, and shattered swords scattered around them.

“I do not think they are okay, Huffle.” Nagi’s voice was gentler than was his wont. “I think perhaps Arthur becomes a king who has to fight battles. This is just one of them. He’ll have to fight many, to become king. And in battles, Muggles die.” Huffle sniffed, leaning against Griff. 

“Last page,” Row said, flipping it quickly. This one was worse.

The drawing pictured one of the bodies from the battle, his helm crowned with a gold crown they’d seen on a round table. Others bent over him, dark blurs that hid his face, but the red pooling beneath his side left little doubt he was dying. 

“Go back to the wedding,” Nagi ordered, voice sharp. Row hastily flipped back to it, but Huffle just stared at it with sad eyes. 

“All Muggle lives come to an end,” Row reminded her comfortingly. “We wouldn’t even live as long as them, except for Master’s magic. Look, he’s happy here. And on those adventures, he might be happy too.”

“And he probably died for a good cause.” Griff added his own thoughts of comfort. 

Huffle looked at her three siblings, the three of them looking at her with worried faces. She drew a breath through her nose. She wouldn’t worry them. She’d make herself be fine. “It’s a beautiful wedding,” she offered, and her smile grew easier when the three of them looked relieved. 

“Right, well, that’s enough for now,” Row said briskly. She closed the book with her beak and shoved it into the depths of the leather bag. “Any ideas on where to hide this where Master won’t find it?”

“Aren’t you supposed to give it back?”

“Huffle, I _bought it_. By Gobin law I may not resell it or give it away, but I’ve rented it for the rest of my life.**** I just don’t know how much of this Master already knows, and I definitely don’t want him to know we know what we know. So I need to hide it.”

“Stick it back in Huffle’s tunnels, Master can’t fit in them and rarely checks them,” Nagi advised carelessly. He turned away, headed for the garden rock, done with people for now.

“Rowkelanika! Griff! Nagi! Hufflette!” The four stiffened and turned towards the door, watching the wizard coming towards them. Griff promptly sat on top of the bag. Merlin swept up to them, robes flaring dramatically in the wind, and stopped in front of them, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You stayed where you were supposed to.”

“Yes, well, we’re pretty sure your magic works,” Nagi snipped. 

“Well, good enough for now. I’m going out. I want to sound out some of my former schoolmates on their opinion on Muggles, and see if we can get a common cause going. While I’m gone, I want you to dig out the Mandrakes— _do not forget to wear earmufflers_ , Griff, Huffle, and Row, though Row, you should just add a few plucked feathers over the ones already on top of your ear holes. Nagi, you should be fine. I want them dug up and replanted by the edge of the garden; the Centaurs won’t do it, since they complain about wearing anything to shield their ears. That should keep you out of mischief for the day. I’ll be back after your bedtime; no staying up.” Merlin touched each of them on the head, strode outside the clearing, and vanished with a _pop_. 

“Chores,” Nagi complained.

“At least they’re garden chores, we get to be in the garden!”

“I’m not a badger who likes that. I want to sleep, not do chores.”

“Me too,” Griff agreed, yawning. 

“But Master said-” Huffle began.

“It’ll get done,” Row interrupted. “After the day we had yesterday all three of us could use some rest. _Not_ Mandrake-induced. I know where Master keeps a pair of gloves, and there’s a potion I can mix up that will let them do the work for us. If we’re out of ear-shot, the gloves can pull the small plants up, and there’s a trowel I can get to dig the new holes. Master won’t care as long as they’re done and we don’t get in trouble.” Huffle shifted uneasily from paw to paw, but she was tired—it was daytime, after all, and just the memory of yesterday, and of those last few pages, drained her of any arguments. Both boys offered gruff thanks to their older sister and went to find spots out of ear-shot to take naps, Row bossily admonishing them not to get into trouble when they woke up. Huffle picked up the slightly squashed bag Griff had gotten off of and took it back to her room, then curled up to sleep. Row went to the Master’s experimental room and mixed the potion. An hour later she flew it outside and carefully dripped it onto the pair of gloves and the trowel, and then flew up to watch them at work from a distance, a thin band of cloth over her ear-holes. The gloves grasped the baby Mandrake and pulled it up, then flew over to the empty hole the trowel just dug. Dropping it in, the gloves scooped up dirt and patted it down. Satisfied it was going well, Row flew back towards the house and went for a nap of her own.

All four animals slept for hours. 

Unfortunately for them, Merlin had only planted fifteen Mandrakes. He’d known his familiars would be tired, and had thought this would tire them out so much they’d sleep the rest of the day, and he could breathe easily. But Row had forgotten, in her tired brain, to put a plant or a time limit on the items she’d used. Once the Mandrakes had been finished, the gloves moved on to the plants planted to attract Flobberworms. Only those plants didn’t come up by the roots, and the gloves tore off all the leaves and planted those in a row of holes. It moved on to the Monkshood next, stripping them of the poisonous, pretty flowers, and dropping those into holes. Luckily for the four, the next plant the gloves tried to tackle was the Whomping Willow sapling Merlin had planted on one corner to keep the gnomes out of the house. The sapling, roused by the first tug, instantly began batting away the gloves every time they approached. The gloves tried grasping the branches whipping them around, but the branches snapped themselves out, ripping small tears in the dragon-hide gloves. Meanwhile the trowel merrily continued digging holes in a straight line right beside the garden, then further, out of the clearing and into the forest, turning up dirt and roots and plants with happy disregard. 

And all the animals were sleeping. They slept through lunch, through the afternoon with its warm sun, through supper time as the shadows grew longer and the battle outside continued, and through twilight, when the gloves, merely strips of hide now, attempted to wrap themselves like ribbons around the exhausted branches and pull that way. And they slept through Merlin’s coming home.

Merlin, appearing with another _pop_ in the dark woods just outside his home, took a moment to lean against a tree. _Ugh, wizards_. So sure they were utterly important but so blind to anything beyond their own small affairs. He’d only met Arthur once, but he wondered, after today, if he’d prefer his company to that of many of his own kind. He was so, so tired. He wanted bed, and to go away from people, and never talk to anyone again. He pushed himself off the tree and walked forward, only to pause.

There were strange sounds coming from the back garden, as if thin whips were cracking through the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I searched “Arthur’s crown” in Google, and it came up with some cool images, especially of Llywelyn’s coronet. The dates for it were a bit after Arthur’s time—just by a few hundred years—but I took it as a model because I liked it, and I’m the author and I’m sometimes allowed. It was cool.
> 
> **Apparently they decorated with all the plants that would still be green at this time. I’m learning so much about this time period.
> 
> ***For any of you aware of the general tale of Gawain and the Green Knight, you know how wrong she was about this certain instance. I give her points for thinking, though. 
> 
> ****From what I’ve read, Goblins think things should go back to their makers once the “renter” dies or tries to give it away. I could be wrong, though. But if it’s true, it seems like something Row would know.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I am, by the way, a Gryffindor. I love my house, but I will be the first to acknowledge each house has its faults. This story is not meant in any way to bash one house or another, nor are the animals meant to be perfect representations of each house. They’re young, first of all, younger than first years (except for Row), and they’re also meant to be individuals, not stereotypes. I’m also a flawed author! Each animal should get their chance to fail and to shine throughout the story, but if you think I’m treating any of them unfairly by the third or so chapter, don’t hesitate to let me know!
> 
> A/N number 2: Everything else I've posted so far was pre-written; this is still ongoing. Therefore I won't be updating it every day, but I should post a new chapter every Tuesday.


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